Pandora's Box
by WatchingTheWatchman
Summary: When Nel deposits an unconscious Grimmjow on Ichigo's doorstep, the substitute shinigami knows that he's in for an interesting time. Not yet fully recovered from the war with Aizen, he's struggling to keep up with his schoolwork, and doesn't have time to babysit a healing espada. But Grimmjow needs a place to heal, safe from his enemies, and Ichigo can't say no. Yaoi. COMPLETE
1. Unexpected Visitors

**Author's Note:**

This is the first time I've tried writing this pairing, so I hope their personalities come across well! Feedback on how to improve is always welcome.

For the curious, L'Hopital's rule is a calculus theorem that allows you to take the limit of a fractional function under certain circumstances when you might not be able to find the limit otherwise. Paul's Online Math Notes has a good explanation.

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Unexpected Visitors  
**

"Let's see," Ichigo muttered, nibbling absently on the end of his pencil. "If the limit as x goes to infinity of f(x) is infinity, and the limit as x goes to infinity of g(x) is infinity, and I've got f(x) divided by g(x)…" He trailed off, staring down at his blank piece of paper as though it held all the answers of the universe. _I know I need to use L'Hopital's rule here_ , _but that would be a lot easier if taking the derivatives of both f(x) and g(x) didn't leave me right back where I started_. Glaring at the massive textbook resting innocently on his desk, he sighed. _Stupid calculus_.

The orange-haired teen pushed his chair away from his desk, spinning to stare out of the window. He had a math test on Friday, a history test on Monday, and a chemistry test on Tuesday, plus mountains of other homework. His soul reaper duties had forced him to miss so much school that he was almost failing most of his classes, and had an insane amount of makeup work to complete. If he didn't pass these exams, there was no way he could pass the classes – and if he failed any of them, getting into a top university would be nearly impossible.

Ichigo rubbed his temples with his index fingers, turning reluctantly back to his desk. _From fighting Aizen and every espada he could throw at me, to wrestling with math problems_ , he thought grumpily. _I think I'd rather be fighting that psychopath again_.

Out of nowhere, the stench of burning flesh filled his nostrils, and he flinched. _Well, maybe not_ , he admitted mentally. Not if it meant losing control and nearly eviscerating his friends again. The image of Orihime's terrified face swam in front of his vision, and he shuddered. _Actually, maybe peace sounds pretty good_. He blinked hard, determinedly forcing away the memories that threatened to overwhelm him, and pulled his textbook closer. _Alright, back to math_. Taking his pencil out of his mouth, he began to rearrange his fraction in an attempt to get a more tractable set of derivatives.

 _You know that this peace doesn't suit you_ , the eerie voice of his hollow snickered in the back of his head. _You need the thrill of the fight and the rush of the kill to feel fully alive_.

"Shut up!" Ichigo snarled back. "We've had this argument before, and I'm not going to have it again!" He glanced at his alarm clock and groaned. _Especially not when I've got another three hours of studying to do, and I've got to be up for school in six_. He propped his chin on his hand, staring morosely at his textbook. It was tempting to simply give up and go to bed, but he refused to give in so easily. _I didn't give up when I was fighting Grimmjow or Ulquiorra, and I'm not going to give up now_ , he told himself stubbornly. Though L'Hopital's rule was proving to be a more formidable opponent than either espada.

He managed another five minutes of work before a gentle tapping on his window distracted him. Shoving his textbook away, he rose and stretched his arms above his head before pulling his curtains back. "What now, Rukia?" he asked irritably, expecting to see the petite shinigami standing on the air, tapping her foot impatiently.

Instead, a buxom girl with vivid turquoise hair and sparkling hazel eyes waved at him cheerfully. Ichigo's mouth dropped open. "Nel?" he blurted out incredulously. The former espada grinned playfully at him. The ragged green top that she wore as a dress in her younger form strained over her voluptuous breasts, baring a toned midriff that flowed seamlessly into long, lightly-furred legs. Several minor cuts marred her fair skin, but didn't detract from her beauty. Her hooves – Ichigo double-checked, and nodded: yep, four hooves – pranced on the air outside of his window. The horns of her cracked helmet curved proudly over her shoulders; for some reason she had festooned them with streamers.

He hastily swung the window open. "What are you doing in your centaur form?" he asked curiously. Though Orihime had healed her after the war, restoring her to her full power, she still struggled to maintain her resurrection for too long. From what she had said, she actually preferred to remain in her little form unless the situation forced her to take an adult mien. Privately, Ichigo wondered if she simply wanted the freedom to act completely immature; she certainly took full advantage of it.

Nel turned sideways, and announced happily, "I've got a present for you, Itsyugo!"

At first, Ichigo couldn't believe that he had heard her correctly. The limp form draped across her back, dripping blood down her flanks, was unmistakably the former sexta espada, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. _I would recognize that shock of electric blue hair anywhere_. Grimmjow's white jacket bore numerous scorch marks, and his hakama were tattered.

Ichigo groaned and pressed his palm against his forehead. "Nel, please tell me you're not referring to Grimmjow," he begged. "Why are you carrying him, anyway? And why is he unconscious?" Nel had given him other 'presents' on occasion – most memorably, a hollow toad spirit that she had thought would make him the perfect pet. He had gently asked her to return it to Hueco Mundo, and she had agreed with a pout. Since then, she had settled for nonliving gifts, like a pretty stone, a shard of crystal, and a warped statue that must have come from Szayelaporro's lab. This was the first time since the toad incident that she had brought a living being with her. _I really hope that's not the 'present' you want to give me_ , he thought glumly. _But I'm afraid it is_.

Nel shrugged fluidly. The motion did interesting things to her cleavage, but Ichigo barely noticed – his gaze was fixed suspiciously on Grimmjow. "He's unconscious because he challenged me to a fight, and lost. Badly," she added, a bit smugly. Ichigo raised an eyebrow, and she continued, "Which is also why I'm carrying him; I couldn't exactly ask him to walk on his own." Gentle condescension laced through her tone, but Ichigo didn't take offense. Getting angry with Nel was like getting angry with the wind.

The substitute soul reaper sighed heavily. "You still haven't answered my first question," he pointed out wearily. "Are you saying that you're…" he hesitated, "giving Grimmjow to me?" _Never mind the ethics of treating a sapient creature like an inanimate object_ , he sighed to himself. _What am I supposed to do with him?_ He could imagine Grimmjow's reaction when he woke up and found himself in the company of the soul reaper that he despised the most, and it wouldn't be pretty.

"Of course!" Nel chirped brightly.

"Of course," Ichigo echoed in an undertone. Fixing Nel with a stern gaze, he pointed out, "Nel, you can't give me a person as a present." In her adult form, she should already understand that. Actually, in her child form, she should comprehend it as well; her childlike form evinced a startling amount of knowledge. _I'll never forget when she said that she was a masochist_ , he thought wryly. _No five-year-old should have any idea what that means_. Of course, he hadn't known the truth about her age until much later.

Nel shrugged again. "Fine then, not a present. Still, will you take him?" She widened her hazel eyes imploringly at him, allowing the crimson line over her cheekbones to accentuate the expression.

Ichigo resisted the urge to rub his aching temples – his headache had returned with a vengeance. Instead, he gritted his teeth, and asked, "Why do you want me to take him? In case you've forgotten, we don't exactly get along." That was a severe understatement.

Nelliel's expression sobered. "Because, if he stays in Hueco Mundo, he'll die," she said bluntly.

Ichigo cast a skeptical look at the unconscious arrancar sprawled across Nelliel's back. "Are you sure?" he asked dubiously. As the former sexta, only a few espada had been stronger than him, and most of those were dead now. So who could take him out?

She nodded sadly. "He's made a lot of powerful enemies, and I've heard rumors that several are planning on banding together to kill him," she informed him. Her lips quirked, and she added, "If that was all, I wouldn't care. But I don't want his death on my conscience. If the only reason they succeeded in killing him was because of his fight with me, well…" She trailed off, her eyes drifting away from Ichigo's as she glanced down. "And maybe I don't approve of their methods."

He grimaced. "That makes sense," he replied softly. _After all, you did lose your place in the espada, and a significant amount of your power, because two of your opponents ganged up on you_. The idea of such a backhanded, treacherous attack grated against Ichigo's sense of fair play. Fighting your opponents in an honorable battle was one thing. But no true warrior stabbed their opponent in the back to get revenge for their defeat in such a battle.

Nel gave him a megawatt smile, turning up her charm. "So you'll take him then?" she asked hopefully, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

"I guess so," Ichigo muttered, already regretting it. He glanced suspiciously at Grimmjow, who remained motionless. "But only if he wants to stay," he warned her. "I won't keep anyone here against their will." Since the chances of Grimmjow voluntarily remaining with him were slim to none, he wouldn't need to deal with the violent-tempered espada for too long. _Only until he wakes up; then he can return to Hueco Mundo. That'd be best for everyone_. Given the rapid rate of healing possessed by most arrancar, he would probably awaken within the hour.

Nel clapped her hands joyously. "Oh, thank you, Itsyugo!" she gushed excitedly. "Thank you!" She maneuvered her front legs up onto his windowsill, angling her body so that Grimmjow's limp form was within easy reach. Ichigo carefully reached out to touch the espada lightly on the shoulder. When he didn't stir, the substitute soul reaper took a firmer grasp and hauled Grimmjow into his room. The espada grunted as his legs struck the edge of the window, but otherwise made no sound.

Nel's hooves, on the other hand, clattered loudly against the windowsill as she backed away. Ichigo winced. "Careful!" he hissed, gesturing vaguely around his room. "Don't let my family hear you!" While his sisters might be enamored by her charming personality and equine aspect, his father would not be so enthralled by the sudden appearance of a powerful arrancar.

Nel blushed. "Sorry about that," she whispered. With a wave of her hand, her back legs dissolved into smoke, which wreathed her briefly in a hazy cloud of reiatsu. When it cleared, she had regained her normal adult form, complete with zanpakuto sheathed at her side. From somewhere – Ichigo wasn't quite sure where, as her outfit barely concealed her assets, and surely couldn't have hidden an object bigger than a paperclip – she produced the mangled remains of a zanpakuto. "He'll want this when he awakens," she informed him in a low voice.

Ichigo nodded, accepting the shards from her. The light blue hilt and crooked 'S' shape of the hand guard marked at as Grimmjow's weapon, if the hum of reiatsu emanating from it didn't give it away. Several inches of blade protruded from the hilt; the remainder lay in three jagged pieces. "What happened to it?" he asked curiously.

She chuckled. "He tried to block my cero doble with it, after firing a gran rey cero at me." Perching on his windowsill, she swung her legs idly over the street below. If any passerby could have seen her, she would have given them quite a show.

"That would do it," Ichigo acknowledged, gently setting the shards on his desk. Nel's cero doble power reflected and exponentially magnified the ceros of her opponents. If Grimmjow had attempted to use a gran rey cero – the strongest type of cero that Ichigo knew about – it wasn't a surprise that Nel's return attack had shattered his blade.

Nel grinned cheerfully at him. "Again, thank you for looking after him," she said seriously. "I hope he won't be too big a burden." She dropped out of his window and trotted over to his side, staring down at Grimmjow with assessing eyes.

Ichigo shrugged. "He can't be that bad." _After all, he'll be out of here like a cat with its tail on fire as soon as he wakes up_.

The former tres espada giggled. "Hopefully!" Before he could react, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "You're a good man, Itsyugo," she said softly. He blinked at her, stunned, and she hopped out of his window. "Well, bye!" she called, waving furiously at him as she sonidoed away.

Ichigo hung his head as he felt her spiritual pressure vanish into the folds of a garganta. _Damn it, Nel, why now?_ he wondered tiredly. Then he shook his head. _But there's nothing to be done until Grimmjow wakes up, so I might as well continue working on my math_. He grimaced. _Give it an hour, and I'll need a break for sure_. The ruckus that Grimmjow would surely cause would come as a welcome distraction.

* * *

An hour later, however, and the blue-haired espada still hadn't awoken. He was, however, making little growling noises at random intervals, which served to thoroughly distract Ichigo from his math homework. _Is he asleep?_ Ichigo wondered, as another soft snarl echoed through the room. "Grimmjow, wake up," he called softly. A quiet growl, almost a purr, answered him. Fed up, the substitute soul reaper shoved his chair back and stalked over to Grimmjow's side.

"C'mon, wake up," he muttered in frustration, tapping his foot impatiently. "You can't just lie there all night." What if his father came in? Or worse, his sisters? _Besides, I need to finish my calculus homework_ , he thought grumpily, _and I can't focus on that while you're lying there, bleeding all over my bed_. He shook Grimmjow's shoulders, careful not to open his wounds any further.

Slowly the espada's eyes fluttered open. "Huh?" he murmured dazedly. "What… Where am I?" Then his azure eyes fixed upon Ichigo. "Damn it, shinigami, what the hell is going on?" he spat, wrenching his body into a sitting position. The move split open the wound in his gut, right above his hollow hole, sending rivulets of dark crimson blood dripping down his bare torso.

"Lie back down, you idiot," Ichigo snarled back. "I don't want your blood all over my bed, thank you very much." He pushed firmly on Grimmjow's shoulders, and the espada reluctantly allowed the pressure to guide him back down.

The defenseless position didn't dampen the fire in his eyes, though. He glared at Ichigo as he growled, "So, Kurosaki, why am I here, in the living world? More like, why am I anywhere near you?"

Ichigo threw up his hands. "Because Nel dropped you off here, semi-conscious and dripping blood. I guess she doesn't want you to die, or something, and you've made some powerful enemies in Hueco Mundo." Not that the latter was a surprise. Grimmjow would challenge anyone to a fight if it promised to provide entertainment. _And I suppose Hueco Mundo must get pretty boring without something interesting to do_.

Grimmjow sneered. "Survival of the fittest. She should have left me in the sand where I fell, if she was too weak to kill me herself." He rolled his eyes. "But then she's always been too soft for an arrancar. She wouldn't kill Nnoitra, either, and that asshole certainly deserved it." He turned his glare back on Ichigo. "But that doesn't explain why she dumped me with you." He gestured angrily at the room as he spoke, wrenching open the gash in his shoulder. Scarlet droplets spattered the blankets underneath him, and Ichigo sighed heavily.

"I don't know, either. I've got a calculus exam Friday; I don't have time to deal with you." He cast a baleful glance at the heavy textbook resting on his desk. _And I'll probably fail it even if I do study; the average on the last test was a 47. So I don't need any distractions_. He returned his focus to the espada shifting uncomfortably on his bed. "So, if you can open a garganta and return to Hueco Mundo, I think we'd both be happiest."

Grimmjow snorted, running his fingers over the slash in his abdomen. "Wow, she really got me good," he muttered, before looking up at Ichigo. "Just give me Pantera, then, and I'll get out of your way," he ordered arrogantly.

Ichigo gestured to the remains of the blade, sitting next to his hated math textbook. "Right there."

The espada heaved a frustrated sigh, an odd expression in his cerulean eyes. "Well, fuck. So much for that, then," he muttered angrily.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "What, can't you go back to Hueco Mundo without your zanpakuto?" he asked coolly. "And stop swearing," he added. "I don't want my sisters to hear that kind of language."

Grimmjow chuckled incredulously. "Always protecting someone, aren't you?" he asked rhetorically. "And, no, I can't create a garganta with Pantera in that sort of condition. We need our full powers build a stable gate." Even so, he reached out and touched the hilt with possessive fingers. His expression softened momentarily, turning almost peaceful, before his lips twisted into another sneer. "Guess that means I'm stuck here."

 _Oh, please tell me this is a joke_ , Ichigo thought in horror. He slumped down into his chair, cradling his head in his hands. "If you're anything like a shinigami, your zanpakuto should mend itself as your body…" he muttered.

"Yeah, yeah, I know all that," Grimmjow interrupted rudely. "It's not like I wanted this, you know."

Ichigo lifted his head. "Wait, so if only arrancar at full power can create garganta, how do all of the hollows get here?" he asked in confusion. He'd seen hollows emerging from rifts in the sky numerous times. Admittedly, those rips in reality had looked far less stable than the neat garganta that the espada could create, but that should have been a matter of ability. _The more powerful the hollow, the cleaner the portal looks_ , he reasoned. _But lower-level hollows can still reach this world. So why can't Grimmjow return home?_

The blue-haired espada leveled a withering look at him. "Don't they teach you anything?" he asked condescendingly. Pulling himself gingerly into a sitting position, he explained, "The lesser hollows are mindless beasts, incapable of the delicate magic of a garganta." He rolled his eyes, ignoring Ichigo's exasperated snort. Assuming a lecturing tone, he continued, "The barrier between your world and mine isn't like a rock wall; it's more like a sponge. Natural rips occur frequently. The hollows you see simply wait for one to appear, and travel through it while it remains open." He tapped his fingers on the hilt of his zanpakuto. "But if you want to arrive where – or, more importantly, when – you want, you need one of these." His expression turned distant, and he scooped up the remaining pieces of his sword. The silvery metal shivered in his hands, as if it was eager to be reunited with its master.

Ichigo's shoulders slumped. "Well, I guess you're stuck with me, then," he mumbled. _Great. Now how am I supposed to study for my math test?_ He glanced up to see the espada regarding him with a peculiar expression. "What?" he demanded.

Grimmjow shrugged fluidly. "Nothing," he replied shortly. He ran his fingers though his hair, spiking it into crazy angles. "Just, in the desert, there's no way a hollow would help a wounded enemy, much less one who tried to kill him multiple times." He smirked cynically. "You shinigami are so weak."

Irritated, Ichigo leveled a glare at him. "It's because of my 'weakness' that you're alive right now, so don't complain," he ordered.

The espada snickered. "Oh, I'm not complaining, just pointing out a fact," he purred. He propped himself up on an elbow, seemingly unconcerned by the way the blood trickled out of the hole in his shoulder. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the room, eventually landing on Ichigo's bedspread. "So, why do you have a quincy symbol on your blanket?" he asked conversationally.

Ichigo felt a dull flush creeping up his cheeks. "It's not a quincy symbol," he snapped hastily, refusing to look Grimmjow in the eye. It really wasn't; he had owned the blanket since he was ten – long before he knew about the various spiritually-aware races. Though it did look suspiciously similar to a simple quincy cross.

Grimmjow's smirk broadened. "Uh-huh," he replied smoothly. "It has nothing to do with that skinny kid with glasses who got his ass kicked by Szayel." He sneered, and muttered, "Good riddance to that pink-haired freak." Ichigo rolled his eyes as the espada prodded at the gash in his lower abdomen, which ran perilously close to his hollow hole. Scarlet blood welled out, disrupting the scab that had been forming.

Grimmjow poked the wound again with a dispassionate expression, and Ichigo heaved a sigh. "I can call Orihime to heal you, so you can go back home," he offered.

For a moment, Grimmjow's expression turned speculative. "She does good work," he acknowledged. Ichigo was reaching for his cell phone when the espada continued, grimacing, "But you might not want to do that."

"Why not?" Ichigo demanded. Orihime had rescued him from the brink of death, restored Grimmjow's arm, and patched up any number of lesser wounds. She could even fully restore his spiritual pressure. Grimmjow's injuries wouldn't make her blink an eye.

Grimmjow snorted cynically. "You really think she wants to see another espada, at this point?"

Ichigo froze. _I hate to admit it, but he's right_ , he thought slowly. _She didn't handle a return to normal life too smoothly; I don't want to bring up any bad memories_. After her captivity, Orihime had withdrawn from her normal, cheerful self, barely speaking or eating for weeks. Yoruichi had eventually talked to her, and she now bounced around like usual, but she hadn't seen a single powerful hollow since the final battle. _Seeing Grimmjow might just tip her back into whatever state she was in_. He was shocked that the temperamental espada had thought of that issue.

His surprise must have shown on his face, for Grimmjow bared his teeth. "Don't get any ideas, Kurosaki," he warned. "It's not like I care about the woman, after all. I just don't want a hysterical girl screaming in my ear." The glimmer of concern in his eyes belied his callous tone.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Fine," he muttered. "But if you're going to stay here, you're going to let me bandage your wounds." His tone brooked no disagreement.

"Why?" Grimmjow demanded hotly.

Ichigo gave him a stern look. "Because you're already bleeding all over my bed, and I don't want your blood getting everywhere," he pointed out dryly. He had no idea if an espada's blood was even visible to normal mortals, but he didn't want to take any chances. Growing up in a medical clinic had taught him a disturbing amount about various blood-borne pathogens, and his father had warned them numerous times about the dangers of contamination. _Never mind the risk of infection for open wounds_. Leaving an injury untreated went against all of his training.

The temperamental espada glared at him, but Ichigo didn't back down. He held Grimmjow's gaze calmly, ignoring the fire that threatened violent retribution if he didn't give in. Finally Grimmjow looked away and sighed. "Fine," he grumbled. "Do whatever you want." He did his best to convey, wordlessly, that it really wasn't that important of a decision, after all.

Biting back a chuckle at the espada's aggrieved expression, Ichigo headed out of the room to fetch some bandages. "Don't move or make a sound while I'm gone," he warned over his shoulder, hand on the doorknob.

Grimmjow waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah." Ichigo rolled his eyes as he shut the door firmly behind him. He had little faith in the espada's promise of good behavior, but he wouldn't be gone long. _If he tries to start any trouble, Karin will squash him_ , Ichigo chuckled to himself. His little sister had become even fiercer after their father had reluctantly revealed the truth of his history to the girls. _She's developed quite a bit of spiritual pressure, too_. Even their father was cowed by her uncompromising stare.

Ichigo rummaged through the drawers of medical supplies down in the clinic, one ear cocked for any sounds coming from upstairs. To his relief, the house was blessedly silent. Neither Grimmjow nor his family made a sound as he grabbed a handful of sterile bandages and hurried back to his room.

Grimmjow's eyes widened as Ichigo dumped the medical supplies on his bed. Along with bandages, the substitute shinigami had grabbed antiseptic wipes, needle, and thread, though he doubted that Grimmjow would allow him to use the latter. "Where'd you get all that stuff?" the espada asked incredulously.

Ichigo lifted an eyebrow. "My father runs a medical clinic; where do you think I got it?" He shoved the bandages to the side, ripping open one of the antiseptic wipes. "I don't know if your wounds can get infected, but there's no point in taking chances," he explained calmly as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. When Grimmjow huffed, he added, "Besides, you've got blood smeared all over you; that, at least, needs to be cleaned up." Preferably before it made an even bigger mess.

"Stupid human customs," Grimmjow grumbled. He grabbed the antiseptic wipe from Ichigo, and snarled, "I can do that myself. I'm not a helpless kitten, you know." He dabbed awkwardly at the gash in his shoulder, wincing at the other wounds decorating his torso pulled against the motion.

"I'm not saying you're helpless," Ichigo snapped back, reclaiming the wipe, "but you're just re-injuring yourself by moving around too much." He fixed Grimmjow with a gimlet stare. "Now stay still, damn it!" He pushed Grimmjow down with a hand on his uninjured shoulder, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on the small burn marks dotting his chest. It looked like he had tried to block a cero, only to have it fracture around his blade and splatter him with fiery reiatsu. Ichigo couldn't do anything about the burns, but the espada's rapid healing would take care of them soon enough.

Grimmjow hissed harshly between his teeth as Ichigo dabbed at the blood splashed across his chest. As Ichigo carefully cleaned the area around the stab wound in his shoulder, he complained, "Fuck, that stings!"

"You're worse than a little kid," Ichigo replied absently. He didn't like the way the edges of the gash puckered; puncture wounds had a tendency to get infected. He could see a sliver of white bone, barely visible under the gore, at the heart of the wound. _Nel is a vicious fighter with that spear of hers_ , he mused, ignoring Grimmjow's hisses as he ran the antiseptic wipe over the torn flesh. _This will take a while to heal_.

Thankfully, that appeared to be the worst of Grimmjow's injuries. The slice above his hollow hole, while deep, managed to avoid his internal organs. _Actually_ , Ichigo wondered, carefully running the wipe along the edges of the gash, _do arrancar even have organs? How would that work with their hollow holes?_ As far as he could tell, shinigami bodies functioned similarly to human ones, but he knew almost nothing about hollow biology.

He considered asking Grimmjow, but the frustrated expression on the espada's face dissuaded him. _If I annoy him too much, he really will start a fight, injuries or not, and I really don't want to deal with that_ , he reasoned. _Karin would murder me, for one thing_. So he continued mopping up every speck of blood in silence, ignoring the espada's glower.

That silence was broken a moment later by Grimmjow's hissed curse. Ichigo looked up, startled by the strange note in the espada's tone. "Are you alright?" he asked cautiously, hastily lifting the antiseptic wipe away from the gash in Grimmjow's abdomen. "Did I hurt you, or something?"

Grimmjow snorted arrogantly. "Yeah, right. As if."

Ichigo exhaled heavily and glared at the espada, who stared back at him with glowing sapphire eyes. "You could be more polite, you know," he pointed out in an irritated tone, returning to his self-appointed task. "I could have asked Nel to dump you back in the desert." Grimmjow huffed. Rolling his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that night, Ichigo took a final swipe at the smears of blood around the espada's hollow hole, carelessly letting his fingers brush against its edge.

Grimmjow breathed another curse. "Fuck, Kurosaki, are you done playing doctor yet?" he growled. A lascivious leer spread over his face, and he added, "Though if you enjoy it so much, I bet you'd look quite fetching in a little nurse's outfit." His reiatsu flared with amusement, filling the room with the faint scent of wintergreen and mint.

It took all of Ichigo's willpower to stop himself from punching that irritating smirk off of the arrogant espada's face, but he managed – barely. Quickly flaring his own power to mask the obvious taint of hollow reiatsu, he snarled, "Reign it in, will you? I don't want my family to know you're here." Seizing a handful of bandages, he began to wrap them securely around Grimmjow's abdomen.

The espada heaved a put-upon sigh, but furled his reiatsu. "You're no fun," he complained. Ichigo yanked on the bandages a bit harder than necessary, and received a dry glare in return.

Once he had finished, Grimmjow sprawled indolently on Ichigo's bed, eyes sliding halfway closed. _He really is just like a cat_ , the substitute soul reaper thought with carefully concealed amusement. _He can take up more space than physically possible_. Turning away to hide his smile, he informed Grimmjow brusquely, "You can sleep in the closet. There are blankets, and I think Rukia left a lamp in there the last time she came to visit." Which, of course, she hadn't bothered to ask permission for. By now, Ichigo had resigned himself to her antics.

Grimmjow eyed the space skeptically. "There's no way I'll fit in there," he drawled.

"Not my problem," Ichigo shot back, dropping into his chair with an audible thump. "I have math homework to do, so you can either stay there or find somewhere else to hole up until you're healed." He rubbed his aching temples with one hand, staring in frustration at the newest incomprehensible problem in front of him. _Find the values of x where the given series converges, and prove that it converges conditionally, not absolutely. Did we even learn how to do this?_

Much to his dismay, Grimmjow swung himself off of the bed and sauntered over. Draping himself over the back of Ichigo's chair, he asked, "So, what are you working on?" His breath ruffled the messy strands of Ichigo's hair, making the substitute shinigami shiver.

"This," he replied curtly, shoving his textbook in Grimmjow's direction. "And I'd like to concentrate, so shut up." He practically growled the last two words, and Grimmjow snickered.

"Better you than me." He prodded the book with a sharp fingernail. "Why do you have to do all of this anyway?"

It was a question Ichigo had asked himself many times. It wasn't like he was going to ever use it again, after all. _Unless I wanted to become an engineer or something, calculus is useless to me_. He wasn't sure what he wanted to major in yet – his dad advocated for biology, while he was more tempted by art – but he was sure of one thing: he wasn't going to need calculus! But he didn't feel like explaining the entire Japanese school system to Grimmjow, who would surely use it as an excuse to mock him. "You know what, let's just go to bed," he suggested wearily. _Math can wait until tomorrow_.

Grimmjow shrugged, making no protest as Ichigo snapped his textbook shut and pushed his study guide away. He did grumble when Ichigo shoved him, none-too-gently, in the direction of the closet, but he finally slid the door open and crawled inside. Ichigo heaved a sigh of relief. _Finally, peace and quiet_. He flicked off the light and flopped onto his bed, fumbling for the blankets. Usually, he would change into pajamas, but he didn't trust Grimmjow to behave himself if he got bored. _And I'm not chasing him down wearing only boxers if he decides to go wandering_.

The rustling sound of Grimmjow arranging the closet to his liking stopped, and Ichigo mumbled sleepily, "Good night, Grimmjow."

A long time later, after Ichigo had given up waiting for a response, Grimmjow murmured, "Good night, Kurosaki."


	2. Illusion of Choice

**Author's Note:**

I'm still working on getting the characterization right for these two, as well as the other characters in the story, so hopefully they're relatively in-character. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Illusion of Choice  
**

Ichigo never liked mornings. Waking up for school as the first rays of sun crested the horizon generally left him feeling groggy and out-of-sorts, especially if he'd been out late fighting hollows. He tended to spend the first few hours of the morning in a grouchy daze, stumbling around like a zombie until he woke up properly.

Of course, that was on a normal morning. Normal mornings didn't include being woken by the clinical application of a cold feline nose to his face.

"Gaaahhh!" Ichigo squeaked, bolting upright as he felt something cold and damp prod his cheek. Blinking in confusion, he cursed as Yoruichi's golden eyes swam into view, only inches away from his face.

"Good, you're awake," she commented in her gravelly voice. Folding her paws in front of her neatly, she settled onto his chest and remarked, "So, why do you have an espada in your closet?"

Ichigo flopped back down onto his pillow with a groan. "Damn it, Yoruichi…" he began. Then he caught sight of the glowing green numbers on his alarm clock. "4:30 AM?" he yelped, voice embarrassingly high. "Yoruichi, what are you doing in my bedroom at 4:30 in the morning?"

She flicked her tail nonchalantly. "Finding out why you have an espada in your closet." Her tone implied both that this should be obvious, and that he should start explaining soon.

Ichigo ran a hand over his eyes. "It's a long story," he muttered. "Can I explain it later? As in, at a reasonable hour?" _I need sleep_ , he thought plaintively. _There's no way I can pass that stupid exam if I fall asleep halfway through it_. He grimaced. _Then again, maybe leaving half of the questions blank would actually improve my grade_.

Yoruichi prodded him with a paw. "No." She gave him a stern gaze, and he shrank backwards. The tips of her claws rested gently on his t-shirt, threatening violence if he didn't comply with her demands.

Resigning himself to her disapproval, he opened his mouth to begin the tale. Then his closet door slid open. "Hey, Kurosaki, didn't know you had a kitty cat," Grimmjow commented, leaning on the door frame. His chest was bare apart from the bandages, revealing tan skin and toned muscle. "Cute kitty." Ichigo swallowed hard, tensing nervously at the way Yoruichi's ears pricked up. _This is not going to go well_ , he thought in exasperation. At least Grimmjow hadn't insulted Yoruichi's feline form, but a slight smirk played about his lips. _What is he planning?_ Ichigo couldn't answer, and that was never a good sign. _I don't need a pitched battle in my bedroom, thank you very much_.

Yoruichi snickered, curling her tail about her legs as she sat up – still on Ichigo's chest. He heaved a sigh and stayed still as her claws pricked his skin; forcibly removing her would be a terminally unwise decision. Practically purring, she replied, "So you're the stray Ichigo brought home. Why are you in Karakura?"

"Oh look, it talks," Grimmjow commented, lifting an eyebrow. Ichigo winced. _Okay, now I'm pretty sure that he's trying to rile her up_ , he sighed silently. _Surely Aizen briefed his espada on the opponents they were likely to encounter; he has to know that she's a shinigami_. Maybe it was some demented form of feline territoriality driving him. Ichigo couldn't think of a sane reason why Grimmjow would deliberately antagonize a former captain who could beat him to a pulp without breaking a sweat. _Then again, it's Grimmjow we're talking about_ , he reminded himself. _Sane is not an applicable word_.

Feline faces couldn't deliver the same level of sardonic look as human faces, but somehow Yoruichi managed. "Hmm, so do you," she replied smoothly. The barest hint of surprise flavored her tone.

Grimmjow snickered in appreciation. Taking a step into the room to lounge against the wall, he asked, "So, Kurosaki, what's with the pussy?" If his injuries troubled him, it didn't show in his movement, which was as fluid as ever.

"Grimmjow, stop it," Ichigo warned, as Yoruichi shifted her weight. _I really don't want my bedroom to become a battlefield_. In retrospect, he should have known that he couldn't hide Grimmjow's presence from the residents of Urahara's shoten. The shopkeeper's array of reiatsu detectors were simply too good; they would have noted Nel's arrival with Grimmjow as soon as she stepped out of the garganta. _But why couldn't they have met at a reasonable hour, and managed to maintain politeness for longer than a heartbeat?_

 _You're whining, King_ , his hollow pointed out gleefully.

Ichigo glowered. _Shut up. I don't need your advice right now_. Even if he truly was whining.

Yoruichi launched herself off of Ichigo's chest, landing lightly on the cover of his math textbook. He inhaled gratefully as she announced, "Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Former sixth espada, who embodied the aspect of destruction." She gave him a disdainful look. "I suggest that you provide an acceptable reason for your presence immediately."

"Oh yeah?" Grimmjow responded, sounding like one of the cocky teenage bullies who roamed the halls of Ichigo's high school. "Or what?" He glanced at her dismissively, sneering. "What can you do?"

Smothering a groan with his pillow, Ichigo wondered if he could simply pull the covers over his head and ignore the brewing storm. _So maybe Aizen didn't inform his espada about her, or Grimmjow just wasn't paying attention_ , he thought in disgust. _Even he can't be that suicidal… right?_

Reiatsu rose from both Yoruichi and Grimmjow, bringing a heavy sense of impending doom to the room. The air felt charged, as if a lightning strike was imminent. Yoruichi tossed her head dismissively before leaping off of the desk. Before her feet hit the ground, her body writhed and dematerialized, snapping back into form as a – unfortunately naked – human woman.

Ichigo yanked the blankets over his eyes with a strangled squeak. "Clothes!" he bit out as heat flooded his cheeks. "Put on some clothes, damn it!" _Why does she always have to take so much pleasure in flaunting her body?_ he complained, peeking out from under the sheet while keeping his gaze firmly averted from Yoruichi. While he had grown somewhat accustomed to her lack of modesty, he still found it unnerving.

Grimmjow, on the other hand, wolf-whistled appreciatively. "Damn." Eyeing Yoruichi up and down, he leered lasciviously. "Nice tits." A slow smirk spread across his face as he took a step away from the wall. "Actually, great ass, too."

 _This cannot be happening, please don't let this be happening_ , Ichigo chanted to himself, torn between the urge to bury his head under his pillows and the compulsion to watch the oncoming train wreck. As Grimmjow strolled forwards, still leering, Yoruichi propped her fists on her hips and rolled her eyes. "You really are as childish as Kisuke said," she sighed, totally comfortable with her state of undress.

Grimmjow stopped abruptly, an affronted look on his face. "Childish?" he demanded.

She favored him with a condescending look. "Unable to focus on anything beyond your immediate desires, hot-headed, immature… Ring a bell?" She leaned back on Ichigo's desk and crossed her legs, ignoring Grimmjow's lecherous gaze.

"Um, guys?" Ichigo interrupted, blushing heavily as Yoruichi turned towards him. "Can this wait?" As Yoruichi opened her mouth, he added hastily, "And please, please, put some clothes on!" He grabbed his jacket from where it hung on his bedpost and tossed it to her, crossing his fingers under the blanket. _Please, put it on_ , he begged silently.

Amusement tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she slid her arms into the jacket. "Better?" she asked, zipping it partway up. Though it was barely longer than a miniskirt, Ichigo nodded gratefully, and Yoruichi snickered. "Now that your prudishness has been satisfied, I'm still waiting for an explanation." Her expression hardened as she stared at Grimmjow, who lidded his eyes and stared back.

Ichigo exhaled heavily. He had seen alley cats face off like that, locking eyes in a staring contest laden with tension. Usually one would look away after a few seconds, flicking its tail as it sauntered off as if it had meant to lose. _Somehow I don't think that'll happen here_. Behavior that was amusing among real felines took on a whole new menace when the combatants each had the power to level a city block.

Grimmjow opened his mouth, no doubt to say something insulting, but before he could speak, Ichigo interrupted. "Nel dropped him off last night," he explained wearily, scrubbing a hand over his face. "She asked me to let him stay until he's healed, since apparently he's got enemies looking for him back in Hueco Mundo."

"Well, that explains the bandages, not to mention the low reiatsu," Yoruichi commented, folding her arms across her chest. "I can't say I'm surprised about the enemies, either." She studied Grimmjow speculatively, eyes narrowed.

The feline espada bared his teeth. "They're a bunch of weaklings, there's no way they can hurt me," he scoffed.

"Uh-huh," Yoruichi murmured, unconvinced. She tossed her head. "Well, if you're planning on staying with Ichigo until you heal, you should talk to Kisuke. Why don't you both come with me to the shoten?" Her tone implied that it was not a request.

"Hey!" Grimmjow protested indignantly. "I'm not planning on staying that long; I'm leaving as soon as I can." He clenched his fingers around the hilt of his zanpakuto, which he had stuck through the waistband of his bloodstained hakama.

 _Good_ , Ichigo thought sullenly, flopping back against his pillows. With a typical arrancar's rate of healing, that wouldn't take more than a few days. He'd be gone by the weekend.

Yoruichi's golden eyes hardened. "That wasn't a question. Considering your prior actions, there's no way that Kisuke and I are willing to allow you to wander around unconstrained and unmonitored." She unzipped Ichigo's jacket and tossed it over the back of his chair. As heat flooded his cheeks, wavered and morphed into her sleek black feline shape. "Let's go." She twitched her tail irritably as she switched her gaze between Ichigo and Grimmjow.

"Now?" Ichigo complained, flushing as his whiny tone reached his ears. Attempting to moderate it, he continued, "Can't it wait until after school?" He cast a despairing glance at his alarm clock, which was set to wake him in a little over an hour. _Why do we have to do this now?_ There was no way he could get back to sleep at this point, but at least he could use the extra time to study.

Judging by Grimmjow's sullen expression, the espada wasn't any more excited about the prospective field trip than Ichigo was. "This is pointless," he snarled, pacing impatiently back and forth within the cramped confines of Ichigo's bedroom. Though he could only take a few steps before he had to turn around, he managed to imbue the motion with a frustrated grace. If he had been in his resurrection form, his tail would have been lashing furiously.

Yoruichi leapt onto Ichigo's desk, snagging his substitute badge with a needle-sharp claw. Before he could react, she tossed it onto his chest, unceremoniously evicting him from his body. "We don't have much time," she informed them both in her gravelly voice. "Get moving." She didn't bother to address either of their objections.

Ichigo tugged irritably at his gi as he extracted his spirit form from the tangled blankets. As always, seeing his body lying motionless in front of him made him shiver – he could never quite escape the niggling fear that, one day, he wouldn't be able to return.

Admittedly, on the days when the stress of pretending to be normal started to overwhelm him, he wondered if that would be a good thing.

Right now, however, wasn't a great time to mull over that possibility. He grabbed Kon from his perch on the dresser, tossing the soul candy in his body's mouth and reminding Kon to behave himself while in Ichigo's body. The mod soul muttered a grumpy assent before pulling the covers over his head and curling into a ball. With Yoruichi back in her feline form and no other attractive women around, he saw little point to being awake before the sunrise.

"Remember to go to school if I'm not back in time," Ichigo ordered wearily. "I can't afford to miss any more class." His teachers had been surprisingly forgiving of his numerous absences after Urahara had produced a fake doctor's note detailing his sister's supposed illness, but he didn't want to push his luck. Thankfully, none of his teachers could tell the difference between him and Kon. _Or, more likely, they don't really care_. Kon's imitation of him simply wasn't good enough to fool anyone who knew him marginally well; his friends would notice the difference within seconds.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes as he threw a punch at the air. "Done yet?" If he noticed the blood starting to seep through the bandages on his shoulder, he gave no sign of it. Instead, he snarled, "Let's get this farce over with," and tossed another punch at an imaginary target.

Yoruichi nodded once and leapt for the windowsill. "Keep up if you can," she ordered shortly, before vanishing in a burst of shunpo. Ichigo scrambled to obey. _I wonder why she's grumpy_ , he mused, following her rapidly-fading trail – even after months of training, his ability to track reiatsu was virtually nonexistent. _Maybe she's not a morning person either_. While he could have found Urahara's shop blindfolded, the inhabitants of the shoten insisted that he take a different route every time he visited in his spirit form. Yoruichi in particular enforced that rule. Ichigo wasn't sure if it was paranoia or reasonable caution, and had given up questioning the secretive shinigami.

Ichigo glanced over his shoulder, vaguely irritated to see Grimmjow keeping up effortlessly. _Stupid hollow_ , he grumbled internally.

His own hollow snickered. _Sure that's the right word, King?_ he asked slyly, forcing his way to the forefront of Ichigo's mind. _You have to admit, he's pretty damn hot like this. Of course, he looked better all covered in blood, but that's easy to fix_.

 _I… what… no… what?_ Ichigo spluttered incoherently. Images of his last fight with Grimmjow rose in his mind, propelled by his inner hollow, and he rolled his eyes. _You're disgusting_ , he told his hollow curtly. The sexta espada hardly fit the conventional definition of attractiveness with blood dripping down his torso and the light of battle-madness flaring in his eyes.

The creature who shared his soul snickered again. _You're in denial, King_.

 _Just shut up_ , Ichigo snapped back. While he'd come to a reluctant truce with his hollow, he knew that it would pounce on any sign of weakness. Giving in to its goading would only encourage its belief that he was unfit to be king, and he had no desire to return to the days of constant battles for supremacy. _Besides, there's no way I would consider Grimmjow attractive. Annoying, yes; arrogant, yes; a total pain the ass, yes. Attractive? Not so much_. He'd need to get rid of the whole I-rule-the-world attitude first, for one thing.

Ichigo snuck another glance back at the espada, who leapt from building to building with barely a whisper of sound. A crimson stain was slowly spreading through the bandages over his shoulder, but Ichigo was glad to see that the gut wound hadn't broken open yet. Surreptitiously studying him, Ichigo was forced to admit that, if not for his attitude, the espada would have girls fawning all over him. _He'd probably make a lot of money if he was an actor, so long as he could keep his mouth shut_ , the substitute soul reaper reasoned. _But as soon as he starts to talk, his fans would run away screaming_. Lewd insults and profanity didn't attract many people.

 _You know there's a way to take care of that_ , his hollow purred.

Ichigo blushed hotly as he figured out what the hollow was implying, nearly missing his next shunpo step. As he scrambled to reach the next rooftop, he growled, _I said shut up!_ The hollow laughed with satisfaction as it sank back into the depths of Ichigo's inner world.

Much to Ichigo's relief, they reached Urahara's shop without any more interruptions from his hollow. The sky was just beginning to lighten, but Ururu was already outside sweeping. She looked up from her task when they landed and gave them a shy smile. "Urahara-san is in the training room," she informed them softly, a pale blush staining her cheeks pink as she turned her attention back to the broom in her hand. Her eyes widened as she snuck glances at the frustrated espada, but she didn't say anything as Grimmjow followed Ichigo into the shop.

Yoruichi grinned wolfishly at the former sexta. "You'll like this." She led them through the trapdoor that led to Urahara's massive basement, complete with false sky, dead trees, and hulking rock formations, smirking at Grimmjow's open-mouthed astonishment.

"This is bigger than Las Noches!" the espada blurted out, squinting towards the rock spires on the horizon.

Urahara fluttered his fan modestly in front of his face. "Oh, it's nothing," he murmured. The former captain, clad in his green-and-white-striped bucket hat and wooden sandals, waited at the base of the long ladder for them to finish their descent. His forest green haori fluttered about him in a gentle breeze with no apparent source; Ichigo could never figure out how Urahara managed to maintain such a lifelike environment. If he hadn't known better, he would have assumed that the brilliant scientist had somehow transported them into a real-world desert. The only discrepancy was the time: it was always midafternoon here.

Grimmjow's eyes slid partway closed as the heat of the artificial sun hit him. The corners of his mouth twitched in a reluctant smile as he leapt off the ladder, landing in a plume of dust. "It's nice," he muttered, perching on a boulder. Then he scowled. "But that doesn't mean I want to be here." He cast a suspicious look at Urahara, all traces of contentment vanishing from his face.

The shopkeeper smiled cheerfully back. "That's alright, you don't have to enjoy it here. But we can't exactly let you cause havoc in the world above, now can we?" His tone held no hint of threat; he was just stating the facts as he saw them.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "I swear I won't cause too much trouble. How's that? Can I go now?" He sounded like a petulant teenager, but a thread of some unreadable emotion ran through his tone. Though he appeared deceptively relaxed, Ichigo could tell that he was ready to spring into motion at any second.

Urahara fanned himself as he replied, "I'm afraid that's not good enough, espada-san."

"My name is Grimmjow," the former sexta espada interrupted rudely.

Urahara gave him a small bow. "Grimmjow-san, then. While I'd like to believe you, I'm afraid your record leaves much to be desired." He studied the espada from under the brim of his hat, keeping his fan in front of his face. His expression showed nothing but innocent curiosity, but that didn't reassure Grimmjow, who shifted uncomfortably on his rock.

 _Just spit it out, Hat-and-Clogs_ , Ichigo muttered in the privacy of his own mind. _What do you want?_ If he'd learned anything from the war against Aizen, it was that Urahara never did anything without multiple motives.

A long moment passed in silence before Grimmjow tossed his head. "What do you want?" he spat. Folding his arms across his chest, he glared at the enigmatic shopkeeper.

Urahara snapped his fan shut and gave the espada a guileless look. "I'm just a humble candy-store owner; what makes you think I want something?" Yoruichi snorted, and he flashed her a mischievous grin. "Besides a guarantee that this fair city is safe, of course."

"Don't give me that bullshit," Grimmjow snarled, leaping off of his rock and starting to pace. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and wisps of cero energy drifted around them. "If you didn't want something, I wouldn't be here. Everyone wants something." He sneered. "And don't give me that crap about being a candy-store owner; I know who you are." Looking Urahara up and down derisively, he snorted, "Or rather, who you were."

The former captain sighed and dropped his pretense of harmlessness. "Very well." He took a seat on a nearby boulder, tapping his fan on his hand. "Grimmjow-san, your presence in this town constitutes an unacceptable risk to the civilian population. Even in your present condition, you could cause immense amounts of damage." He tipped his hat down, shading his eyes as he studied the espada.

Grimmjow snorted. "Like I want to do that. I just want to heal so I can go back." He grimaced as he kicked a rock out of his way, glaring at the ground with a frustrated expression.

"You know, we can send you back now," Yoruichi offered, curling her tail neatly over her paws. "Give us a few hours, and Kisuke can build a garganta back to Hueco Mundo."

"Now, wait a minute," Ichigo protested. "You can't do that!" He didn't particularly like the arrogant espada, but he refused to send him into a death trap. _He doesn't deserve that_. Grimmjow had brought Orihime to heal him after Ulquiorra plunged a hand through his chest; he owed the espada for that. _Admittedly, he did it for his own selfish reasons, but still. If not for him, we all would have died on those blood-soaked sands_. Sending him half-healed into an ambush would be a poor way to repay that.

Yoruichi shrugged, sending a ripple of fur down her spine. "Survival of the fittest. If he's strong enough, he'll survive. Isn't that how it's supposed to work, Grimmjow?"

The feline espada glanced between Yoruichi and Ichigo, incredulity chasing pride and anger across his face. His mouth opened and closed several times before he threw up his hands in disgust. "You shinigami make no sense," he growled, lashing out with a brutal backhanded punch at the rock beside him. The sandstone shattered, showering him with rubble, and he bared his teeth in satisfaction.

Ichigo shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Can't you give him a power limiter, like the ones the captains wear when they're here?" he suggested when the silence stretched on a bit too long.

"Good idea, Ichigo," Urahara replied smoothly, as if he hadn't thought of the idea himself. Ichigo rolled his eyes. _I don't know what you want, but there's no way you couldn't come up with the notion of a power limiter_ , he told the shopkeeper silently.

Grimmjow eyed them both dubiously. "A power limiter?" he asked skeptically.

Urahara gave him a cheerful grin. "Don't worry, it won't hurt," he reassured the espada. "It's easy to do; it should only take an hour or two to whip up."

"No way," Grimmjow retorted. "I won't let my fangs be drawn by a cowardly shinigami and his bitch." Cero fire flared around his fists, but Ichigo didn't think it was a threat. It seemed more like an instinctive defensive response to the idea of losing part of his power. _I can sympathize with that_ , he realized. He couldn't imagine voluntarily giving up a significant portion of his power, not after being stripped of all of it during the war with Aizen. _One experience of powerlessness is more than enough_.

Yoruichi narrowed her lambent eyes. "You don't get a choice," she informed him coolly. Her ears had flattened against her head at Grimmjow's rude statement, and her reiatsu dripped with frosty disdain.

Urahara waved his hands placatingly. "What if we make it so Ichigo can release it?" he suggested peaceably. "It won't restrict more than 80% of your power – that's the same amount that the captains lose when they come here." He smiled at some private joke, casting a sidelong glance at Ichigo. "If our substitute soul reaper wasn't human, with his powers kept in check by his body most of the time, he'd be ordered to wear one as well."

Ichigo started at that. "Wait, l would?" He hadn't ever considered the notion. _Though I suppose the badge might serve the same purpose, give the Gotei 13 the ability to clamp down on my power if I ever got out of control_. He still didn't know all of its properties.

Yoruichi flicked her tail, giving him a look that suggested he was a particularly dull student who had managed to miss the point of a lesson for the thousandth time. "You're as strong as a captain," she told him. "Of course you would."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered sullenly. "I guess I've got no choice. I'll take your damn power limiter, so long as I can still fight." He had clearly decided that arguing was futile. Ichigo was surprised, though, that he hadn't immediately leapt on Yoruichi's offer to send him home. _Why doesn't he want to go back to Hueco Mundo?_ For that matter, why hadn't Yoruichi and Urahara insisted on sending him back? It would solve all of their problems in one fell swoop.

 _Would you want to return to such a barren, lonely place, Ichigo?_ Zangetsu asked softly.

Ichigo frowned. His zanpakuto rarely offered advice, but his words always held a wealth of meaning. _I guess not_ , he thought slowly. _But this is Grimmjow we're talking about!_ He couldn't imagine the brash espada feeling lonely, much less admitting it. _But I guess I don't really know that much about him_. A warrior could learn a lot about an opponent over the course of a battle, but it wasn't the same as being friends.

He glanced over at Grimmjow, whose hands clenched and unclenched compulsively at his side. The espada's face displayed a blend of fury and resentment, underlaid with wary resignation. The sight sent an unexpected twinge through Ichigo's heart – he could imagine exactly how Grimmjow must be feeling, and he wouldn't want to inflict that painful blend of emotions on anyone. But all thoughts of worry were driven out of his head when he looked down at his watch.

"6:15?" he yelped, flushing as everyone turned to stare at him curiously. "I've got to get back, my dad always wakes me up at 6:30," he explained hurriedly, trotting towards the ladder up to the shoten.

"Why don't you return here after school, Ichigo?" Urahara suggested. "We can entertain Grimmjow for a day." He gave the espada a genial, welcoming smile; Grimmjow just glowered back. Ichigo couldn't blame him – Urahara's version of 'entertain' typically meant 'force to do any chores I can come up with.' But that wasn't Ichigo's problem at the moment.

"Sure, yeah, whatever," he called back over his shoulder, already halfway up the ladder. "See you this afternoon." _That is, if I don't get grounded for sneaking an espada into my room_. Not that there was much chance of that. His dad still preferred to pretend to be a normal, albeit kooky, human, ignoring much of the evidence about Ichigo's less mundane activities. _I still can't believe he let Rukia stay in my room for months without even giving me a hint that he knew about soul reapers and the spirit world_. So he probably wouldn't remark on Grimmjow's nocturnal appearance.

 _Then again, if I don't get back to my body in time, who knows what he'll do_. Knowing his dad, it'd probably be something embarrassing. _I don't think I want to find out_. So he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, using every bit of the agility he'd learned fighting Urahara, Byakuya, Kenpachi, and every other opponent the world could throw at him to speed his way home. _Home, pretend to wake up, study for math during breakfast… So much to do today_ , he thought ruefully. _At least Urahara will take care of Grimmjow while I'm at school, and hopefully he'll be on his way home soon_. The espada couldn't cause that much trouble in two or three days. _Everything can go back to normal soon_. He wanted to believe that, but, as he slid into his body a millisecond before his dad burst into the room, he couldn't escape the sinking feeling that he was missing something important.

* * *

High above the city, where the air thinned and the winds raced through the upper reaches of the atmosphere, a thin crack of darkness sliced through the sky. The jagged band quickly widened to reveal a trio of slender hollows, who regarded the town below with narrowed eyes beneath their masks. Their reiatsu, wrapped tightly around them to mask their presence, emanated confidence and cruelty in equal measure. As they stepped out of the portal, it snapped shut behind them with a sharp crack.

The leader of the trio, a slender hollow whose humanoid torso blended seamlessly into a scaled serpentine tail, bared his fangs. The two long canines swung down from the roof of his mouth, protruding grotesquely from his thin lips. A dark droplet of poison slid down one fang as he hissed, "Can you sense him?" Frustrated rage roiled around him, barely restrained from lashing out at the hollows next to him. He ran a hand over the partial mask that covered one eye and part of his nose, rubbing irritably at the broken horn that jutted out from its top.

"Not yet," the largest of the hollows rumbled. He inhaled harshly, sucking in air through his bone-covered muzzle. "His scent trail has faded; I can't track him." The hollow shifted his hulking shoulders uncomfortably as the serpentine hollow glared at him, but the tension was broken by the third member of the team, who snickered.

"Did you really expect something different?" she asked rhetorically, fanning her deceptively delicate wings lazily. "Nelliel might be going soft, but she's still a smart little bitch." She ran a finger over the bone circlet that decorated her forehead, tapping the centerpiece that rose from her head in a spiral horn. "I can feel where she entered the town, but she's completely hidden her trail from there on." The petite hollow grimaced, exposing a row of jagged teeth. If not for the shark-like maw, she would have looked like an illustration in a children's fairy tale, complete with translucent wings and elfin features. But the bloodstained fangs shattered the illusion.

The serpentine hollow turned his red-eyed glare on her with a hiss. "Arietta, shut up," he ordered curtly. She simpered sarcastically at him, opening her mouth to snap back, when he pulled his lips back. Another set of fangs hinged out of his jaw, glistening with oily liquid, and she recoiled. A trace of fear lurked in her eyes as she sulkily shut her mouth. He gave her a humorless smile, pulling his fangs back into his mouth. "Better. Can you find him?"

She shrugged. "If he's here, he can't hide for too long." She twitched her head from side to side, setting scarlet tresses swinging. "I can sense traces of his presence, but they're all old. But he'll have to come out eventually."

"Eventually isn't good enough," the leader snarled back.

She flinched away from his anger, but held her ground. Spreading her hands placatingly, she repeated, "He can't hide forever. We'll get him." Her reiatsu swirled around her, a sullen mixture of dull violet and amber shot through with streaks of electric blue, signaling both her confidence and nervousness.

"She's right," the largest hollow concurred, bass voice soft and nonthreatening.

The serpentine hollow rolled his eyes. "She'd better be." He nodded imperiously to both of his followers. "Find him. Now."


	3. The Law of the Desert

**Author's Note:**

Thank you to Ferris for leaving a lovely, detailed review on this story! It always helps me as a writer to know what parts my readers enjoy; it lets me focus on those elements. Unfortunately, guest reviews don't allow me to reply to the reviewer in person, so I hope the guest who left that review sees this.

Enjoy the chapter! This is the first time I've written from Grimmjow's perspective, so hopefully it comes across well.

* * *

 **Chapter 3: The Law of the Desert  
**

Grimmjow bared his teeth in frustration as he watched Ichigo sprint out of the underground training area like a scalded cat. _Return here this afternoon, yeah, like I'm some mewling kit who needs a babysitter_ , he snarled mentally. He resented being dropped off at Urahara's shoten like a kid who couldn't be trusted not to burn the house down while his parents were away; it was insulting and humiliating. Then there was that glint in Urahara's eye when he promised to entertain the espada – Grimmjow hadn't liked the look of it at all. _What the fuck are you planning, shinigami?_

His hand clenched reflexively around Pantera's cracked hilt as Urahara took a few steps forward, and he winced. Without his faithful zanpakuto at his side, every step felt unbalanced. The slight weight of the shattered blade on his hip was an unsettling reminder of his current weakness – without Pantera, he stood no chance against Urahara, and he knew it.

"So what do you really want?" Grimmjow demanded caustically, flopping back down on a nearby boulder. He sprawled backwards as though he didn't have a care in the world, though his muscles remained tense and ready to pounce. _Even without Pantera, I'm not going down without a fight_. It might be a short, one-sided affair, but he didn't need a blade to kill or maim. _Try anything, and you'll regret it_ , he promised silently, glaring daggers at the approaching shinigami.

Urahara smiled genially as he took up a relaxed stance a few feet away from Grimmjow's boulder. Fluttering his fan in front of his face, he purred, "Now, what makes you think I want anything? I just need a few samples so I can create the power limiter. You wouldn't want to lose all of your power, now would you?"

Grimmjow's upper lip curled as he ground out, "You said this would be painless." Battle lust surged through his veins as he considered the shinigami who stood within easy striking distance, mocking him with his careless relaxation. At this range, a cero would go straight through his body, leaving nothing but a smoking hole behind. Urahara smiled guilelessly at him, and Grimmjow's temper flared higher. _Who does he think he is? What right does he have to collar me like a pet?_ If a strand of fear fueled the molten fury, he refused to acknowledge it. _I'm a king, dammit!_

Then, unbidden, the memory of Urahara's encounter with Ulquiorra and Yammy rose to the forefront of his mind. The harmless-looking captain had easily deflected Yammy's cero, and Ulquiorra had decided that retreat was a prudent move. Grimmjow had called it cowardice at the time. But now, he wondered if the fourth espada had made the right decision. The man in front of him concealed a deep wellspring of power, and the woman-turned-cat by his side was, if anything, even stronger. _Either one of them could take me, even if I was at full strength_ , he decided reluctantly. _I guess that makes sense… Kisuke Urahara was the one shinigami who Aizen seemed to respect_.

The former captain pulled his hat low over his eyes. "It'll be painless, like I promised; I just need a few drops of blood," he reassured the espada in low, soothing tones, as though trying not to spook a skittish horse.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Okay, whatever," he snorted. A mixture of offense and amusement warred within him briefly, until amusement at Urahara's placating tone won out. "I'm already bleeding, so that's not a problem." He cast a disparaging glance at his shoulder. The gash should have scabbed over by now; he didn't understand why his regenerative abilities had slowed down. _Stupid puncture wounds_. Maybe the loss of Pantera was affecting him more than he had expected.

Urahara smiled cheerfully. "Perfect!" He pulled out a small vial from a pocket inside of his long green coat. "May I?" He held up the vial, along with a small cotton swab, and gestured towards Grimmjow's shoulder.

The simple request flustered the espada. Why was Urahara asking for permission to retrieve the blood? Even if Grimmjow chose to lash out, the former captain could easily restrain him. Urahara was obviously the stronger, especially since Pantera lay in pieces, so why did he ask for anything? _The strong take what they want, and the weak endure_. That was the law of the desert. _Is this some stupid shinigami custom, or something?_

A faint note of sadness darkened Urahara's eyes as Grimmjow stared at him in confusion. "May I collect the sample?" he repeated, motioning again towards Grimmjow's injury.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Grimmjow muttered, turning his wounded shoulder towards the scientist. _Damn shinigami and their damn protocols for everything_. The sooner he could return to Hueco Mundo, the better.

Urahara carefully unwound the bloodstained bandages wrapped around his shoulder, wrinkling his nose at the mess underneath. "Yoruichi, can you fetch me that salve from the medicine cabinet?" he requested, prodding at the puckered edges of the gash with a fingertip. "He needs disinfectant immediately; this is already starting to become inflamed. I'm surprised Ichigo didn't realize that – his dad should have taught him that much, at least." Urahara chuckled ruefully. "But I guess I'm not too surprised that Isshin forgot." Yoruichi leapt off of her perch on a sandstone pillar and bounded off.

"He did put some antibacterial stuff on there," Grimmjow pointed out coolly.

The scientist's eyes narrowed. Grimmjow caught a whiff of surprise – and, for some reason, satisfaction – from his reiatsu before Urahara smoothed it back into genial neutrality. "Hmm, interesting," he muttered, poking the wound a bit more forcefully.

Grimmjow bit back a hiss as Urahara's nail struck a particularly sensitive spot. "Since when do bacteria affect hollows?" he asked irritably. Living world maladies should have no effect on a denizen of the spirit realms.

Urahara peered more closely at the wound, muttering to himself. The cool green glow of healing kido sprouted from his fingers and started to sink into Grimmjow's flesh; the espada yelped. "What the hell?"

Urahara immediately cut off power to the kido. "What's wrong?" he asked urgently.

Grimmjow bared his teeth. "That fucking stung!" Stung was too kind of a word; it had felt like a thousand needles were stabbing into his flesh. While he was no stranger to pain, he was fairly sure that healing kido were not supposed to feel like that. When Orihime had restored his left arm, it hadn't hurt nearly as much.

He expected Urahara's scorn for his childish response to the pain, but the shinigami merely frowned. "Now, that shouldn't happen," he murmured. A different shade of green wreathed his hand, and he gingerly touched the reddened edges of the hole. "Does that hurt, as well?"

Grimmjow gritted his teeth. "Yes," he replied shortly. The kido burned like acid, gnawing at already-tender flesh. He cautiously shifted his arm, relieved to feel the muscles respond normally – they ached as if he had just fought an hour-long battle, but they moved.

"Odd," Urahara replied absently, pulling his hand away. "I've never seen a reaction like that." He frowned. "You said that Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck was the one who caused this, correct?" When Grimmjow nodded, the scientist's frown deepened. "I have no record of her possessing a poison-type zanpakuto… this doesn't make sense."

Grimmjow shrugged awkwardly. "Nah, Gamuza isn't poison. Nelliel does have that weird healing spit, but that's about it." At least, as far as he knew. She wasn't the type to poison her enemies, though; she preferred a fair fight. _Szayelaporro, on the other hand… He would have infected me with all sorts of nasty shit_. Grimmjow rolled his eyes. _Fuck, I'm so glad he's dead_.

Urahara abandoned his attempts to heal Grimmjow with kido, and began swabbing at the dark crimson blood welling from the gash. As the blood soaked into the cotton swab, Grimmjow stifled a sigh. He hadn't had this much attention paid to his injuries since the time Orihime had healed him, right before his battle with Ichigo.

"Hey, Kisuke, catch!" A round plastic jar hurtled through the sky, narrowly missing Grimmjow's left ear. Urahara snatched it out of the air with a satisfied grin.

"Thanks, Yoruichi!" he called back, popping the lid off of the jar and sniffing the contents critically.

The slender shinigami, back in nude human form, sauntered over. "Don't mention it." She took up a perch on a nearby rock, studying Grimmjow intently. He shifted uncomfortably underneath her penetrating gaze, feeling very much like a mouse under the eyes of a cat. Powerful hollows eyed weaker ones that way when they were debating whether or not to consume them. The implicit threat made him bare his fangs and snarl subvocally, hand returning to Pantera's hilt despite the futility of the gesture.

Urahara's voice cut the tension. "Dear, if you're going to bait him into a fight, please do it after I've bandaged him up," he admonished Yoruichi teasingly. She lidded her eyes and looked away as he swiped a finger through the salve and dabbed it onto Grimmjow's shoulder, smearing it over the puncture.

Grimmjow tensed, expecting more pain, but none was forthcoming. Instead, a cool numbness spread through his muscles, dulling the burn left behind from the kido. He flexed his muscles and grinned fiercely. "What is that stuff?" It worked far more rapidly than the muck Szayel had made for the espada on Aizen's orders after their constant squabbling had left multiple warriors out of commission for the fifth time. For once, Grimmjow hadn't been among their number, but he could still recall the heat of Aizen's fury as the would-be god berated them for their carelessness.

Urahara shrugged. "Just a concoction I came up with. Ichigo and his friends kept getting injured, and too much kido healing can be bad for the body, so I invented this to help their recovery." He screwed the lid back onto the jar and handed it to the espada. "Here, take this. Apply it twice a day – once when you wake up and once right before bed. It should take care of whatever poison has infected that wound of yours."

Grimmjow eyed the jar curiously. The pale cream inside glimmered slightly under the artificial sun, but he couldn't get a clear look at it; a wide label with red, green, and blue stripes covered most of the jar. "What does it say?" he asked, peering more closely at the odd word. It wasn't written in kanji or katakana, and he didn't know how to read romaji, the Romanized version of the language. He wasn't even sure if it was romaji, or some other script.

Yoruichi started laughing, while a faint blush colored Urahara's cheeks. "It was what I had on hand," he defended, glaring halfheartedly at Yoruichi. Grimmjow looked between them, then back at the jar, mystified.

She snickered. "Yeah, because you got Shinji to smuggle you a dozen cases of it when he visited America last year," she pointed out. Turning to Grimmjow, she explained, "It says 'Jif.' It's a brand of peanut butter that, for some strange reason, Kisuke has decided that he adores." When Grimmjow's bewildered expression didn't change, her grin broadened. "Right, you've probably never heard of peanut butter, have you?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "It's an American delicacy, at least according to Kisuke. Though I don't know why anyone would eat it, honestly." She shrugged, giving Urahara a fond look.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "So long as it doesn't poison me, I don't care," he declared. Though he couldn't imagine that a substance called 'peanut butter' would be too good for him. _How do you even get butter from peanuts, anyway? Doesn't it come from cows, or something?_ Hollows had no need to eat human food, so he had never cared how any of it was produced.

"You don't have to worry about that," Urahara returned smoothly, pink fading from his cheeks. "The only thing in that jar is the healing salve."

"Huh." Grimmjow studied the jar with renewed interest. _Maybe this will be useful after all_. He glanced up to see Urahara examining the cotton swab, now encased in a clear vial, while Yoruichi had returned to her study of him. "Well, thanks, I guess," he added belatedly.

Urahara waved a dismissive hand. "It was no trouble." He slipped the vial back into a pocket and tipped his head to one side. "Do you want to watch me make the power limiter?" he offered, giving Grimmjow an inviting smile. Grimmjow glowered suspiciously at him, but the enigmatic scientist just fluttered his fan as though he didn't have a care in the world.

"What if I don't?" he challenged, casting a sidelong glance at Yoruichi.

Urahara shrugged. "You can stay down here, of course," he replied, gesturing expansively to the fake desert. "There's plenty of room to train. Just try not to make too much noise!" Judging by the amused look he shared with Yoruichi, that was some kind of inside joke.

Grimmjow decided to ignore it. _Stay here, or follow this guy around?_ The prospect of a long day in the empty desert, with nothing to do, was hardly appealing, but neither was trailing after Urahara like a lost kitten. _Then again, I might learn something if I watch him make this limiter. Maybe he'll let something slip and tell me how to get rid of it_. That made the decision easy. "Sure, I'll watch," he declared.

* * *

An hour later, as Urahara decanted a bubbling purple potion that stunk like a sweaty locker room into a clear glass beaker, he was starting to regret that decision. Urahara hummed while he worked, and the tuneless noise had wormed its way inside of Grimmjow's brain. It wasn't even music, just a monotonous drone that rose and fell in pitch, punctuated by Urahara's incomprehensible mutters as he mixed chemicals and poked various buttons on the arcane machinery scattered about the cramped lab. Grimmjow slumped against the edge of a crowded table, shifting position every so often as Urahara reached around him for more instruments. Several times now, the eccentric scientist had picked up a particular beaker, rod, or complicated metal contraption, only to put it down after a minute of examination and pick up something that looked nearly identical.

"Are you almost done?" Grimmjow grumbled, glaring petulantly at Urahara as he swirled the violet liquid around, staring at it with a critical eye.

The scientist blinked in surprise. "What? Oh, Grimmjow-san, you're still here?" he asked, self-deprecating humor at his own absent-mindedness infusing his tone. "Yes, I should be done soon." He turned back to the potion in his hand, sniffing it and making a face before placing it in a strange machine.

Grimmjow didn't trust his pretense of carelessness. Aizen had always known where everyone was; he would have never forgotten that one of his erstwhile enemies stood in the same room as him. _And he respected Urahara_. Grimmjow suspected that, had he made any aggressive moves, the former captain would have reacted immediately. _After all, you don't get to be the captain of a division by being oblivious. Probably_. Then again, there had been nothing in Urahara's manner to suggest that he hadn't been genuinely startled by Grimmjow's question. Even his reiatsu had displayed legitimate surprise. _So either he's a brilliant actor, or he really does get so wrapped up in his work that he forgets to be cautious_.

Now that could be quite useful. Grimmjow shifted his weight into a more balanced stance, careful to keep his movements slow and unthreatening. He didn't want to actually harm the shinigami – not right now, anyway – but decades of survival in Hueco Mundo had honed his survival instincts to a fine art. Weaknesses always had to be verified; it could mean the difference between life and death, especially against a stronger opponent.

When Urahara didn't look up from his machine, Grimmjow casually rested a hand on the hilt of Pantera. _I could send a cero through his back before he could even flinch!_ he thought incredulously. The scientist had turned away from him, puttering around with an instrument that emitted a variety of beeps and squawks in total disregard for the potential enemy at his back. In the cramped confines of the lab, Grimmjow wouldn't have to take more than a step to run him through. _Can he really be that naïve?_

Grimmjow tensed. A mad impulse to try and see what happened flared in his veins. He slid one foot forward over the concrete floor, silently pulling Pantera from his waistband.

"You know, not everything has to be a fight," Urahara remarked without turning around. Grimmjow froze. _How did he_... But Urahara wasn't finished. "It's alright to trust people sometimes. That's not weakness; it makes you stronger."

Grimmjow shoved Pantera back though his waistband and snorted. "Save the philosophy for someone who cares," he sneered, baring his teeth at the back of Urahara's head. "Your stupid shinigami platitudes are useless in Hueco Mundo." He half expected Urahara to punch him for that – he practically wanted him to.

So he was obscurely disappointed when Urahara, without any anger in his tone, replied, "You're free to think that." He still didn't turn around. Instead, he extracted the flask from the machine and poured the liquid onto a flat plate with a number of unreadable scribbles carved into it.

"Face me, dammit!" Grimmjow demanded. "Or are you shinigami all that suicidally stupid?" In the desert, no hollow would give another a clear shot at their back unless they had a death wish, or were extremely confident in their superior power. Even then, it wasn't wise to turn your back on an enemy; it was too easy to get in a disabling blow.

Urahara, however, apparently didn't realize that. He peered down at the plate, gingerly brushing the liquid with a hair-fine needle. The solution hissed and spat smoke, which he waved away with a grimace before returning to his delicate work. Grimmjow shifted his weight impatiently. _What the hell is he doing?_ Bubbles formed in the potion as the espada watched with narrowed eyes, clenching his jaw shut in frustration. He was on the verge of snarling another demand for answers when Urahara finally explained, "This is a critical stage of the process. If I don't keep a close eye on it, the entire solution could be rendered worthless." He gave Grimmjow a guileless smile over his shoulder. "You don't want to be here for another two hours, do you?"

"Fuck that," Grimmjow muttered in response. One hour in this cramped, smelly lab was more than enough. At least Urahara seemed to be implying that the limiter was almost finished; he wouldn't have to listen to the scientist's babble for much longer.

Unfortunately, Urahara's next words dashed his hopes. "There!" the former captain announced cheerfully, setting the plate under a red lamp. "Give it about an hour to solidify, and it should be ready to apply." Grimmjow groaned, and Urahara gave him a sympathetic look. "Don't worry, we don't have to stay down here and monitor it." He chuckled. "That would be rather boring, wouldn't it? Thankfully it's not necessary." He strolled towards the door leading out of the lab, neatly maneuvering around a spindly chair piled high with books. "A nice cup of tea will do us both good, I think," he commented casually. When Grimmjow didn't follow, Urahara paused, one hand on the door handle. "Unless you really want to stay down here."

 _Again, fuck that_ , Grimmjow thought, but this time kept the words firmly behind his lips. He sullenly followed Urahara out of the lab and into the main part of the shoten, slouching against the cabinets as the scientist bustled around making tea. The silence stretched uncomfortably long as they waited for the water to boil – Urahara, despite his chattiness only moments before, seemed perfectly content with the quiet.

Grimmjow, on the other hand, could only tolerate so much of it. After the production Aizen had made of serving tea – crappy, watery, bitter tea – at every meeting, he would have been happy to never see another teacup in his life. Thankfully, Urahara didn't seem inclined to make a ceremony out of it the way Aizen had, but it still made Grimmjow long to bury his claws into the scientist. The smug smirk on his face, as though he knew everything and was just waiting for Grimmjow to ask the right questions, didn't help matters.

At last the silence stretched on for too long. "Do all you shinigami have an obsession with tea, or something?" Grimmjow growled as the teakettle finally began to whistle. Urahara deftly snapped open the spout and poured the boiling water into a teapot, sprinkling dry tea leaves over the top. He watched as the fragments lazily drifted towards the bottom of the pot, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips, while Grimmjow grew more and more impatient. "Well?" he finally demanded.

Urahara chuckled. "Why would you think that?" He languidly fluttered his fan in front of his face, hiding his expression as he watched Grimmjow from under the brim of his hat.

Grimmjow gave him a dirty look. "You know why," he snapped back. "Aizen did the same damn thing, every meeting. We always had to have tea." His lip curled into a sneer. "I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius who knew everything." When Urahara chose not to respond, Grimmjow spun on his heel and stared moodily at the knickknacks on top of the counter. "Never mind." The scent of brewing tea wafted through the air, bitter and lightly flavored with peppermint – the meeting room in Las Noches had always smelled like that. Grimmjow wrinkled his nose and tried to block out the unwanted memories. _Aizen is gone, and he's never coming back. Let him rot in a shinigami prison until his flesh melts away; it'd be a fitting punishment_.

Silence fell again as Urahara strained the leaves from the brew and poured it into two porcelain teacups, decorated with a simple flower pattern. He handed one, along with a saucer, to Grimmjow, who accepted with a grimace. _At least it smells marginally better than Aizen's slop_.

"Sugar?" Urahara offered, holding up a bowl full of sugar cubes.

"Um, okay," Grimmjow muttered in response, hooking two lumps into his cup. Urahara smiled genially at him, motioning for him to take a seat at the low, circular table in the middle of the room. With a mental sigh of resignation, Grimmjow complied. _Maybe a customer will show up and he'll get called away_ , he thought without much hope.

Urahara settled into a comfortable, cross-legged position at the table, setting the cup in front of him and steepling his hands. "What did you think of Aizen?" he asked out of the blue, as calmly as if he was asking about the weather.

Grimmjow froze. "He was an egotistical, arrogant blowhard with delusions of grandeur," he bit out without pausing to think about it. At Urahara's startled expression, he smirked. "What? Didn't think I knew those words?" He'd learned that particular phrase from Ulquiorra, though the supercilious fourth espada had been insulting him, not Aizen. Ulquiorra had added a few other adjectives as well, but Grimmjow didn't bother to repeat those; they meant more to hollows than they did to shinigami.

"And yet you followed him," Urahara pointed out smoothly, disregarding Grimmjow's accusation.

"Yeah, so?" Grimmjow snapped back mulishly. He glared suspiciously at the scientist, mistrusting his sudden interest in a topic Grimmjow would have chewed off a limb to avoid. _What the hell do you want now, shinigami?_ Like he had told Ichigo, during their final fight in the desert, hollows and shinigami were natural enemies; nothing good could come of this line of questioning.

Urahara took a sip of tea, humming in appreciation as he savored the flavor. Grimmjow sniffed warily at his own cup – he wouldn't put it past Urahara to slip some sort of poison into the drink. It didn't smell tainted, but that was never a guarantee; some toxins were undetectable. He'd learned that lesson courtesy of Szayelaporro.

But Grimmjow had watched Urahara prepare the tea, and he hadn't seen the scientist drop anything into his cup. The cups had all come out of a cupboard, full of a dozen identical teacups; the tea had been poured from the same pot. It was probably safe. _Besides, if he wanted to poison me, he already had his chance with that salve_. So Grimmjow took a cautious sip.

And immediately spit it back out. "How the hell do you drink that?" he spluttered, eying the liquid as though it might leap out and bite him. "It's awful!" _Forget about traditional poisons; just serve your enemies some of this!_ Even Aizen's brews weren't this bad. Grimmjow peered at the teacup with narrowed eyes, holding it gingerly with two fingers. _Maybe he did put some sort of toxin in it_.

Between the fan and the hat, Grimmjow couldn't read Urahara's expression, but the former captain appeared vaguely amused. He took another sip of tea, with every evidence of enjoyment, before asking, "Why did you join Aizen's army?"

"Why do you care?" Grimmjow snarled back. _Why? He was powerful, he was strong; he promised us the world, and we were stupid enough to believe him. He told us each exactly what we wanted to hear, and we waltzed into his trap like naïve little bunny rabbits_. The former sexta clenched his hands into fists, reveling in the sting of his nails on his palms. _Even I believed him at first_. That had changed after the shinigami murdered his fraccion and Tosen stopped him from getting revenge; Aizen's condescending tone after the blind captain severed his arm had been infuriating. At that point, he had remained with the espada mainly in hopes of a rematch with Ichigo… and partially out of fear of the would-be ruler of the universe. _Fuck Aizen, and fuck Tosen, and fuck everyone_ , he growled to himself. _I was always better than them_. And now they were dead, and he was alive – that alone was sufficient proof of his superiority.

If only he could convince his subconscious of that.

Grimmjow looked up to see Urahara watching him with an unreadable look in his eyes. "What?" he hissed lividly.

Urahara shrugged. "He didn't treat you all very well, did he?" the former captain murmured, regarding his tea pensively. "You were cannon fodder, nothing more."

"What do you know about it?" Grimmjow demanded hotly. He slammed his teacup back into the saucer, sending the lukewarm tea slopping over the side. "Where were you during the war, huh? I don't remember seeing you on any of the battlefields!" When Urahara didn't reply, Grimmjow's lip curled. "That's what I thought. You hid in your comfy little shop, a cowardly turtle in its shell, only coming out when you had no other choice. Did you really intend for Kurosaki to survive his trip to rescue the woman? Or did you not even care?" In Grimmjow's eyes, the scientist's actions reeked of cowardice.

Now Urahara showed some reaction. He tipped his head down, shading his eyes with his hat, but not before Grimmjow could see the sadness lurking within them. In that moment, Urahara looked every one of his hundred-plus years. "I knew that Ichigo could succeed," he murmured, sounding as though he was trying to convince himself more than Grimmjow. "He needed to get stronger before he could face Aizen."

Grimmjow snorted rudely. "Yeah, place all your hopes on the shoulders of a teenage boy. How noble and courageous of you, shinigami." He prodded the saucer with his finger, morbidly fascinated by the way the spilled tea resembled smears of blood. "You know, Aizen respected you," he pointed out without lifting his eyes from the teacup. "Well, as much as he respected anyone," he amended, rolling his eyes. "Why couldn't you have done something about him? Why'd it have to be a half-trained kid?" Again, Urahara failed to respond, and Grimmjow huffed. "Why not those two captains who took out Starrk? Harribel said they were pretty damn strong; why didn't they do anything? Hell, why not the kid's father – he's a former captain too, isn't he?"

Urahara's head jerked up. "How did you know that?" he inquired, a bit too hastily for his pretense of nonchalance to fool Grimmjow.

"It's obvious," Grimmjow informed him disdainfully. "He reeks like a shinigami, just like the rest of you, and only captain-class soul reapers have that particular flavor to their spirit energy. Since he's here, and not back in the soul society with the rest of you losers, he can't be a captain anymore. But he used to be one; it's written all over him."

Urahara frowned, teacup halfway to his lips. He set the cup gently back in the saucer, absentmindedly toying with his fan as he studied Grimmjow. "Did you meet Ichigo's father, then?" he asked curiously.

"Didn't need to," Grimmjow replied curtly. "His scent is all over that house." Shinigami didn't mark territory the way hollows did, but their reiatsu still left impressions on the spaces where they spent the most time.

"Hmm, interesting," Urahara muttered, almost too low for Grimmjow to hear. He sipped at the dregs of his tea, watching Grimmjow over the brim of the cup. The espada shifted restlessly as Urahara settled the cup back into the saucer and dabbed at his lips with a napkin, all without saying another word. Some unreadable emotion glimmered in his eyes – Grimmjow didn't trust that expression at all. It was all too reminiscent of the look Aizen would get right before assigning his espada to some unpleasant duty, mixed with something Grimmjow could only interpret as satisfaction.

Finally the former captain folded his fan and placed his hands in his lap. "You know, I wouldn't have expected an espada to care who he was fighting," he remarked casually. "Why does it bother you so much?"

Grimmjow opened his mouth to snarl back something nasty, then froze. It wasn't as if the affairs of shinigami mattered at all to him. So why was he angry over their actions? _Because they're cowardly little shits, that's why_ , he told himself furiously. But something about that didn't ring true. Before the war began, he would have sneered at their actions as just more evidence of shinigami stupidity, but it wouldn't have bothered him much. He would have gleefully annihilated Ichigo, then gone on his way in peace. _Law of the desert: kill or be killed_.

Yet the teen hadn't died. Instead, he had gotten stronger and become a worthy opponent, turning Grimmjow's world upside-down in the process. _Damn shinigami and their damn 'morals' and 'honor.' Who do they think they are, anyway?_ Every soul reaper appeared to possess the same arrogant attitude, the same superior way of viewing the world. _They need to be taken down a peg or twelve_.

Grimmjow hunched his shoulders, ignoring the way Urahara looked at him expectantly. He was not fond of introspection, and the scientist's questions stirred up uneasy feelings best left buried. Dropping a hand to Pantera's hilt, he heaved a put-upon sigh. "Go fuck yourself," he muttered without much heat. "Don't you have anything more interesting to do than sit here and blather at me?"

Urahara's eyes glinted. "You know, if you're that bored, I can find something for you to do."


	4. Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

Again, thank you to Ferris for the gorgeous, detailed review on this story! In response to your last question: no, Aizen never poisoned the tea. Szayelaporro, on the other hand... you never know! And yes, Urahara definitely extracted every last drop of information from that conversation. I see him as a brilliant, manipulative, borderline-sociopath, and do my best to portray him that way.

I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! It would have been posted earlier, but a city-wide blackout due to a massive blizzard forestalled that.

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Homecoming  
**

Grimmjow scowled furiously as he strode beside Ichigo, dust matted in his hair and grime under his fingernails. "And then he ordered me to help him clean the lab. I don't think that place had been dusted in years! Decades, maybe," he complained.

Ichigo hid a smile. Urahara never turned down free work. According to Renji, he would shanghai you into doing chores if you so much as murmured anything about boredom or had idle hands for more than a few seconds. Grimmjow's petulant complaints would have sounded at home in Renji's mouth; it was actually kind of adorable.

Grimmjow ran a hand through his hair, glaring at a rock as he kicked it out of his way. "This is stupid," he muttered, kicking the rock again. "The living world is stupid." He plucked irritably at the formfitting white t-shirt he wore, emblazoned with the logo 'Rise Against' in gory red letters. "Why do I have to wear a gigai, anyway?"

As he prodded at the skin over his abdomen with an expression somewhere in between bemusement and disgust, Ichigo felt his lips twitch. Most shinigami reacted to their first time in a gigai in a very similar manner, although he suspected that Grimmjow would despise the comparison. He had to admit, though, that it was odd to see the espada without a gaping hole in his midsection and a jawbone covering his left cheek. The teal markings under his eyes had also vanished, although his hair retained its vivid shade of blue. Apart from the t-shirt, he wore soft black jeans, a studded leather bracelet, and, for some reason, a pair of belts. One draped diagonally across his hips, while the other lay in the proper position for a belt. The arrangement could have held a zanpakuto, but there was no sign of Pantera – she would have been confined within the gigai along with Grimmjow's spirit form.

 _Which is a good thing_ , Ichigo reflected, watching the way Grimmjow's hand repeatedly reached for a nonexistent hilt. _He's attracting enough attention as it is_. The current attention was mostly positive, but if he had been strolling around with a naked blade, that would have quickly changed. _I don't want to have to deal with the police because someone got scared; he'd probably try to shred them_.

Then again, it might get rid of the trio of giggling schoolgirls attempting to follow them. Ichigo groaned internally as the girls peeked out from around a building, hands covering their mouths in a futile attempt to stifle their laughter, before whipping back around the corner. _Seriously, you'd think they had never seen a guy before_. Admittedly, Grimmjow basically embodied the 'bad boy' stereotype, but that was no excuse.

If Grimmjow noticed the girls, he gave no sign of it. Instead, he scratched roughly at the tribal tattoo in the shape of panther's claws that covered his left shoulder. "Is it supposed to itch?" he asked dubiously, peering at his nails as though he expected to find particles of ink on them.

Ichigo shrugged. "I don't know; I've never seen a power limiter take that form." Usually, they appeared as miniature versions of the shinigami's division symbol, barely a centimeter across. The ebony marks on Grimmjow's shoulder were nearly a handspan wide, and far more complex than a typical division symbol.

Grimmjow heaved a sigh, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Whatever." He glanced sidelong at Ichigo. "You sure this is a good idea?"

It was a valid question. Ichigo had been incredulous when Urahara suggested introducing Grimmjow to his family as a German transfer student, but the eccentric scientist had gradually managed to convince him. It still sounded like a crazy plan, but it was better than the alternatives. Someone had to watch over Grimmjow – everyone agreed on that much. Grimmjow had grumbled about it, but even he had seen the necessity of it. But that left open the question of who would take on espada babysitting duty.

Urahara had offered, but, "He'll have to work for his keep, of course." Grimmjow's eyes had widened at the cheerful pronouncement. While he had been far too proud to ask Ichigo for help, the substitute soul reaper couldn't surrender him to Urahara's untender mercies – not if it meant listening to his whining afterwards.

At least, Ichigo tried to pretend that that was the only reason he had volunteered to watch over Grimmjow. But he couldn't deny that he felt a certain kinship with the surly espada. _He's really not so bad once he stops trying to kill you_ , he reasoned, sneaking a glance at the arrancar prowling beside him. _And since he's promised not to do that anymore – at least until he's healed – he shouldn't cause any problems_.

Unfortunately, Ichigo's father was unlikely to see things that way. "There's no way my dad won't recognize what you are," he warned Grimmjow, who snorted.

"Like I care."

"You should," Ichigo warned, stopping and giving Grimmjow a serious look. "If you can't convince him that you're no danger to my sisters, you'll be back at Urahara's place." When Grimmjow didn't look convinced, Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "Scrubbing toilets," he added.

Grimmjow recoiled. "Fuck that!" He rolled his eyes, kicking at another rock. It bounced away into the gutter, and he heaved a sigh. "Fine. I'll play nice."

"Good," Ichigo muttered. He started walking again, noting with a corner of his mind that the girls had finally vanished. "Anyway, Karin may be able to tell that you're not fully human, but I don't know how far her training has progressed. Yuzu, however, doesn't have enough sensitivity to detect you while you're inside your gigai, so long as you keep your reiatsu damped." He glanced over to see Grimmjow studying the graffiti on the wall beside them, nodding along absently to Ichigo's words. "Are you listening?"

The espada shrugged. "Karin might be able to tell, Yuzu won't," he paraphrased with a bored expression. "Aizen used to pull that trick on us," he grumbled, pulling a hand out of his pocket and prodding again at the power limiter.

Ichigo exhaled heavily. "Karin will do anything to protect Yuzu, so don't do anything to upset her," he warned resignedly. "But since she probably won't notice anything, Karin and my dad will keep pretending that you're human." Hopefully. _Though I really don't know how Dad will react to the presence of an espada in the home_.

* * *

"My son is making friends!" Isshin leapt at Ichigo, arms outstretched and mouth spread in a goofy smile. "It's a miracle!"

Ichigo leaned to the side, snapping out his arm as his father hurtled past. Isshin collided with the arm and bounced off with a grunt. "Cut it out, dad," he grumbled, stepping past his father's prone form.

Isshin sat up, rubbing his chest ruefully. "I've taught you well, my son." He glanced at Grimmjow, who stood in the doorway with an incredulous look on his face, and his eyes narrowed. "Ichigo…" he started, in a tone devoid of humor and playfulness.

Then Yuzu poked her head around the corner. "Oh, Ichigo, you're home!" she exclaimed cheerfully, trotting forward and wrapping her arms around him. He hugged her back, giving Grimmjow a warning glare over her head. Grimmjow scowled, but quickly smoothed his face into a more pleasant expression when she asked, "Who's your friend? Is he staying for dinner?"

Ichigo scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Yuzu, Dad, meet Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez," he introduced, crossing his fingers behind his back in the hope that his dad wouldn't do anything too embarrassing. Isshin's mouth thinned as Ichigo said the name, but he said nothing as Ichigo continued, "He's an exchange student from Germany. I was wondering if he could stay with us for a few days." Ichigo trailed off, realizing how flimsy the cover story sounded, but unable to change it now.

Yuzu smiled brightly. "It's very nice to meet you, Jaegerjaquez-san," she said politely, giving him a little bow. "Do you like lasagna?" Ichigo furrowed his brow, and she grinned at him. "I'm experimenting with European cooking," she explained happily, smoothing down her apron. "I hope you all like it."

Grimmjow blinked in puzzlement at her as she turned her expectant look back on him. "Ah, um, that sounds great," he mumbled, running his fingers through his spiky hair.

"Dad, what are you doing on the floor?" Karin strolled into the hall, hands on her hips. "Come on, get up." When he didn't move, she kicked his shoulder. "Get up!" As he scrambled to his feet, she heaved a sigh. "Jeez, Dad, I swear you're nothing more than an overgrown toddler sometimes."

"Oh, Masaki, my children are so cruel to me," Isshin wailed, plastering himself against the giant poster of Masaki hanging on the far wall. Karin groaned, while Yuzu patted his shoulder sympathetically.

Grimmjow gave Ichigo a bemused glance. "Are they always like this?" he mouthed. Ichigo nodded resignedly. _In fact, this is positively sane compared to the usual chaos_. Isshin hadn't resumed his attack on Ichigo yet, and his current plaint was thankfully free of blubbering. When he thought that Yuzu wasn't looking, he snuck quick, assessing glances at Grimmjow., who looked torn between laughing and snarling.

Ichigo sighed. "Anyway, I've got that math test to study for," he announced loudly. "We'll be down in time for dinner, alright?" He began edging towards the stairs, motioning for Grimmjow to follow.

Isshin's waterworks cut off instantly. "You'd better not be late," he threatened, folding his arms in an attempt to look menacing. "You know what happens to those who threaten the harmony of this household." As Ichigo rolled his eyes, Isshin switched his attention to Grimmjow, who was unsuccessfully trying to stifle laughter. ""I suppose you have homework, too?" he challenged, tone making it very clear that he knew the truth of the matter. His spiritual pressure rose slightly, and Karin gave him an odd look.

Before she could turn her gaze on Grimmjow and discover his secret, Ichigo nodded firmly. "Yeah, he does. We'll be as quiet as mice, I promise." He locked eyes with his father, willing him to not make a scene. As Isshin nodded reluctantly, Ichigo took another step towards the stairs. Please, please, let this be the end of it, he prayed.

Then Yuzu spoke up. "Where will Jaegerjaquez-san be staying, Ichi-nii?" she asked innocently.. "I'm happy to share with Karin; he can have my room." She offered Grimmjow a brilliant smile, clearly flustering the espada.

"Ah, he'll stay with me," Ichigo replied hastily, intercepting his dad's warning look. _Power limiter or not, I think we'd all be happier if he's under direct supervision_. Part of Ichigo hated to feel so suspicious of a man who hadn't done anything wrong – at least on this visit – but the simple fact was that they couldn't fully trust the espada. _No matter how much I want to believe that he'll keep his promise_.

Karin glanced between the pair of them, confusion written all over her face. "So, is he your boyfriend, or something?" she demanded bluntly.

"What?" Ichigo spluttered, cheeks flaming. "No! Of course not!" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Isshin wince.

Grimmjow smirked and winked at Karin. "Not yet, at any rate," he stage-whispered. Ichigo slugged him in the shoulder, punching him again when he opened his mouth to say more. Grimmjow obediently shut his mouth, but amusement tugged at the corners of his lips as he followed Ichigo up the stairs to his bedroom.

Ichigo slammed the door shut with more force than necessary, whirling to glare at the arrogant espada. "What the hell was that about?" he demanded, embarrassment and anger warring for dominance in his expression.

Grimmjow sprawled out on his bed and grinned. "Come on, Kurosaki, it was just a joke. Lighten up already." He raised a speculative eyebrow. "When was the last time you got laid, anyway?"

Ichigo slammed his palm into his forehead. "Just shut up," he muttered, stalking over to his desk and pulling his math textbook out of his bag. "I've got a test tomorrow that I need to study for, so you can do anything you want as long as it's quiet and in here." With that, he flopped down in his chair and yanked out his pencil, flipping open the book to the first practice problem. _Back to L'Hopital's rule… great_.

Grimmjow rose languidly and draped himself over the back of Ichigo's chair. His breath stirred Ichigo's hair as he murmured, "I bet you've never gotten laid. Am I right?" Ichigo didn't respond, and he snickered. "Of course I am." He ruffled Ichigo's hair, still chuckling. "That's okay, kid, you'll get there eventually."

"Have you ever heard of personal space?" Ichigo demanded, shoving his chair back and spinning to face the espada. His cheeks were beet red as he glared at Grimmjow, who grinned back unrepentantly. He was still too close for Ichigo's comfort. The substitute soul reaper opened his mouth, then paused at Grimmjow's raised eyebrow. "Just…" He sighed. "Just be quiet, okay?" he finished lamely, turning back to his desk.

The espada snickered again. "I bet you haven't even kissed anyone," he commented conversationally, perching on the corner of Ichigo's desk. "Though I bet you wouldn't complain if that friend of yours, with the long orange hair and the great figure, kissed you."

"What?" Ichigo spluttered, cheeks turning even redder. "No! What? That's…" He glared indignantly at Grimmjow. "Orihime is like a sister! That'd just be weird!" he protested. _Besides, I think she's finally gotten over her crush on me, and I don't want it to return_. Orihime was a sweet girl, and one of his best friends, but kissing her would be incredibly awkward. _It'd be like… like… kissing Rukia, or something_. Ichigo shivered. _Of course, if I tried that, she'd probably bite my head off_.

Grimmjow's smirk widened. "What about the Quincy, then?" he inquired, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Ichigo dropped his head onto his desk, firmly forcing that particular image out of his mind. "Grimmjow, shut up," he muttered hopelessly. The espada was clearly spoiling for a fight, and had apparently decided that baiting Ichigo was the best way to get one. While the substitute shinigami would normally be happy to oblige, studying took precedence.

Unfortunately, Grimmjow didn't see it that way. He shifted his weight and grinned like a cat with a full bowl of cream, exposing sharp canines. "Struck a nerve, Kurosaki?" he purred, leaning forward as Ichigo buried his head in his arms. "Is that what it is? You're not into girls?"

 _Do I really have to put up with this for the next four or five days?_ Ichigo groaned internally. _I think I'll go insane_. He wasn't exactly ashamed of his sexuality – he had wondered if he was gay ever since he saw Yoruichi naked for the first time, and felt nothing but excruciating embarrassment and awkwardness. Subsequent interactions with Rangiku Matsumoto and Nel in her adult form had reinforced that suspicion. He simply wasn't attracted to girls. But he hadn't told anyone that; he didn't know how they'd react.

Part of him knew that those worries were foolish. In all likelihood, Chad would simply nod and smile, accepting it without question or condemnation the same way he accepted everything about Ichigo. He couldn't see Orihime having an issue with it either. _In fact, she might have already guessed; she's far more perceptive than most people give her credit for_. Even Uryu, despite their constant bickering, was unlikely to react negatively. Nor would most of his soul society friends care – as far as he could tell, shinigami held no prejudices against same-sex relationships.

However, the same could not be said about human society. Homosexuality was more acceptable now than in the past, but it still carried a stigma. Chizuru had been harassed in the past for the way she flaunted her preferences, though that had stopped once Tatsuki – on the request of Orihime – threatened to knock out the next person who teased her. While Ichigo held less than zero fear of bullies at this point, a tiny part of him still cared what others thought; coming out as gay was a risky move.

Grimmjow huffed with frustration when Ichigo didn't respond. Swinging his legs off the desk, he prowled over to the window and leaned his forearms on the sill. Streetlights were beginning to flicker on in the street below as the sky darkened, casting distorted shadows over the d eserted road. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted; the faint sounds of the evening traffic drifted on the breeze. Grimmjow sighed. "The human world is so weird," he murmured, staring idly out the window.

"Yeah, maybe it is," Ichigo replied softly. _Compared to Hueco Mundo, or even the soul society, this place is positively bizarre_. For the first time, Ichigo realized how disorienting it must be, to suddenly be trapped in a world so foreign to anything Grimmjow had known before. _He doesn't know any of the customs, the terrain is unknown and possibly inimical, and he's forced to rely on his enemies for shelter. No wonder he seems so irritable_. Though Ichigo suspected that the espada's natural temperament had something to do with it as well. He glanced over at the espada, but Grimmjow appeared content to stare out of the window for now.

 _Good_ , Ichigo sighed, picking up his pencil again and pulling his textbook closer. _Maybe I can actually get some math done before dinner_.

* * *

Grimmjow's unusual silence lasted throughout dinner and into the night, which simultaneously pleased and worried Ichigo. He responded politely enough to Yuzu's chatter throughout the meal, and even remembered to compliment her on the lasagna, but lapsed back into silence as Ichigo returned to his studying. Ichigo would have wondered if he was getting sick, but espada couldn't catch living world illnesses.

Some of his usual snark returned when Isshin barged into the room shortly after dinner and not-so-subtly threatened to murder him if he harmed either of the girls, but even that interaction was more muted than usual. After Isshin left, Grimmjow started pacing around Ichigo's room, rubbing at the tattoo on his shoulder and casting unreadable glances out the window.

At last Ichigo set down his pencil and stretched his arms above his head. "What's going on?" he demanded, interrupting Grimmjow in mid-stride.

The espada shrugged, stalking over to the window and leaning against the sill. "It feels like a storm is coming," he replied, shaking his head in frustration. "But I can't tell what's going on." He scratched absently at his wounded shoulder, then dropped his hand to his belt. "This damn gigai and power limiter are screwing up my senses."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, a storm is coming?" he asked slowly. The night sky was mostly clear; the espada wasn't referring to a physical thunderstorm. But Ichigo couldn't sense anything amiss in the currents of spiritual energy, either. _Then again, I'm not the greatest at reiatsu sensing – I might be missing something_.

Grimmjow scowled and flexed his fingers. "The air feels heavy, like the way it does in Hueco Mundo before a sandstorm," he explained, glaring at the street outside.

"I can't sense anything," Ichigo admitted. "But that might not mean much." He rose and joined Grimmjow at the window, sliding it open to let in the breeze. The sounds of traffic had died down, leaving only the soft susurration of leaves and the call of a nightingale to break the hush of the night. An owl swooped out of the sky and circled once before soaring away; Grimmjow watched it with wary eyes.

"Is this normal?" he asked abruptly.

To Ichigo's senses, the night was no different from any other night in Karakura Town. Better than most, in fact – there were no emergency sirens streaming towards the clinic, no screaming patients or weeping relatives crowded into the minuscule waiting room. He said as much to Grimmjow, who made a face. "You sure it's not too quiet?" The blue-haired espada shifted restlessly, tapping his fingers on his hip. "It seems way too peaceful."

"Trust me, peaceful is good," Ichigo assured him dryly. Peaceful meant he could study for his math test; quiet meant that his sisters could get a full night's sleep. _There's no such thing as too quiet_. A night without hollow attacks or mundane crises was something to be savored, not something to be wary of.

Grimmjow clearly didn't share that opinion. He cast one more suspicious glance out the window and resumed pacing – four steps to the door, spin, four steps back. After three sets of this, he snarled and flopped down on Ichigo's bed. "How do you put up with this?" he complained, throwing his arms wide. "Trapped inside, night after night, while you have all of that to explore?" He waved a hand at the window, then winced. Rubbing at his shoulder, he continued, "Don't you get bored?"

"Yes," Ichigo replied dryly, casting a disparaging glance at his math homework. "Try spending four hours solving sequences and series… then you'll know what boredom really is." At least the interminable practice was good for one thing – there was a halfway decent chance that he would pass the exam now.

Grimmjow snorted with amusement. "You humans are weird." He sat up and fixed Ichigo with a predatory stare. The substitute soul reaper lifted his eyebrows as Grimmjow purred, "You've been doing that for a while now, right?" Ichigo nodded warily. "So you can afford to take a short break, right?" Ichigo nodded again, and the espada grinned triumphantly. "Great! Then you owe me a fight."

 _I should have known he'd be leading up to that_ , Ichigo groaned to himself, rubbing his temples. "Really, Grimmjow?" he asked out loud. "You don't even have a zanpakuto, and you want to fight?"

"Why not?" Grimmjow shrugged, an eager light burning in his azure eyes. "Just a friendly spar. What do you say?" His reiatsu rose within the confines of the power limiter, flavoring the air with wintergreen.

"It's a bad idea," Ichigo muttered. But he couldn't deny that the prospect of a sparring match was enough to get his blood pumping; it would be a welcome way to break up the tedium of studying. _What can it hurt?_ He sparred with Renji all the time, and they never walked away with anything more than bruises. _If it starts getting out of hand, I'll just end the match_.

Ichigo heaved a sigh. "Fine," he told Grimmjow. "Let's spar. Barehanded, no zanpakutos, no other powers." Hopefully that would be enough to keep damage to a minimum.

A joyful smile spread across Grimmjow's face, all angles and predatory glee. If he found the conditions overly restrictive, he made no mention of it. Instead, he shucked his gigai, letting it crumple grotesquely to the floor as he smoothed down his bloodstained jacket. "Let's go."

Ichigo frowned. "Your shoulder doesn't look like it's healing," he pointed out, taking a step towards the espada. A dot of fresh crimson shone in the center of the rusty stains that covered half the bandage, and Grimmjow's movements were stiffer than usual. While he couldn't tell how bad it was underneath the bandages, fresh blood was never a good sign. The wound should have been halfway healed by now, not still leaking blood.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes irritably. "Enough with the mother-henning! Do you want to fight or not?" He flexed his arm, rotating it in a tight circle. "I'm fine."

"On your own head it be," Ichigo muttered back. _If you're so desperate for a fight, I'll give it to you, but don't whine at me when you reinjure yourself_. Not that he suspected that Grimmjow would complain of any injuries – his pride wouldn't let him show that much weakness.

As Grimmjow watched impatiently, Ichigo slapped himself on his chest with his substitute shinigami badge, lowering his body to rest on his bed before turning to the espada. "You might want to put your gigai in a more comfortable position," he suggested, glancing at the abandoned body.

Grimmjow heaved a sigh and kicked the gigai into a marginally less awkward pose. "Satisfied?" he asked sarcastically, giving Ichigo a sardonic look. Without waiting for an answer, he strode over to the window and hopped out into the night. "Come on, let's go!" he demanded impatiently.

Ichigo followed as the former sexta sonidoed into the sky, skidding to a halt a hundred yards above the twinkling city lights. He opened his mouth to remind Grimmjow of the rules, then closed it with a sigh. "Ready?" he called, taking up a battle stance across from Grimmjow. Zangetsu hung heavily on his back; he could feel his inner hollow's excitement as adrenaline surged through his veins.

Grimmjow grinned maniacally, showing Ichigo his sharpened canines. "Bring it on, Kurosaki!" As the last words left his mouth, he leapt at Ichigo, and the battle was on.

Ichigo spun to the side, letting Grimmjow's initial rush pass by him as he threw a punch at Grimmjow's head. The espada pivoted on the ball of his foot and lashed out with a roundhouse kick as he hurtled past, catching Ichigo under the ribs as he dodged the punch. Ichigo huffed. _Even injured, he's fast_. He whirled, blocking Grimmjow's punches and returning fire with a quick flurry of blows.

Grimmjow started laughing. "Perfect!" he crowed, throwing a vicious uppercut followed by a pair of hook punches. Ichigo's fist slipped past his guard and crashed into his jaw, but his grin didn't diminish. He ducked under Ichigo's next punch and wrapped his hand around Ichigo's shoulder, hooking a foot behind Ichigo's leg and heaving him off balance. Ichigo countered with a knee to the groin, forcing Grimmjow to relinquish his grip. The espada was practically purring as they broke apart and circled.

A battered old car trundled by on the streets below, burping plumes of smoke, and Grimmjow nearly leapt out of his skin. "What the hell?" He glared down at the street as the car meandered onwards, clanking as though it was one pothole away from collapsing.

Ichigo chuckled. "Welcome to the living world."

"Shut up, Kurosaki," Grimmjow growled, lunging at him. "Don't look at me like that!" A spark of anger flared in his eyes as his hand shot towards Ichigo's throat. Ichigo smacked it aside, but Grimmjow used the momentum of the block to turn his strike into an elbow to the temple. Ichigo swayed aside and punched Grimmjow in the gut, right above his hollow hole; the espada grunted and renewed his attack.

The substitute soul reaper quickly found himself on the defensive as Grimmjow pressed forward mercilessly, mixing hand strikes and kicks in an unpredictable whirlwind of attacks. _Damn, he's good_ , Ichigo thought admiringly, wincing as a side kick hammered into his ribs. _Without Zangetsu, I think he's better than me, even with the power limiter_. The limiter did little to restrain Grimmjow's innate speed or strength, though it would slow his sonido and greatly weaken his cero. But he was a natural brawler, happiest when using hands and feet to beat his opponent to a pulp; the lack of spiritual attacks didn't bother him much. _He doesn't need a weapon to be deadly_. Ichigo, on the other hand, relied on Zangetsu and his bankai to win his battles – the barehanded combat at which Grimmjow excelled was not his forte. _I can keep up, but I couldn't win like this_ , he realized, hissing as Grimmjow's fist connected with his jaw.

"Come on, kid, you can do better than this," Grimmjow taunted, dodging Ichigo's side kick and retaliating with a jab to the throat. Ichigo swayed out of the way in the nick of time, and the espada smirked. "Or are you really that useless without your zanpakuto?" He feinted with a low roundhouse kick before sweeping his foot up into a hook kick at Ichigo's face. The substitute shinigami caught it on his forearm, wincing as the blow drove him backwards.

"Just shut up," he growled, throwing a flurry of strikes at Grimmjow's head. The espada laughed maniacally as he stayed just out of range, then lunged in with a hook punch to Ichigo's gut. _You should let me out to play with him, King_ , Ichigo's hollow suggested, peering through Ichigo's eyes as the substitute shinigami elbowed Grimmjow in the throat. Grimmjow retaliated with a spinning hook kick that missed Ichigo's nose by a millimeter, followed by a devastating backfist that sent the substitute shinigami flying.

 _Not now_ , Ichigo replied curtly, throwing up his hands up in an x-block to catch Grimmjow's next kick. Blood trickled from his split lip as he dodged backwards, letting Grimmjow's fist fly harmlessly past his head. The espada started to launch another roundhouse kick, and Ichigo stepped in with a jab, hoping to catch the espada off balance.

Big mistake. Rather than dodge out of the way, Grimmjow accepted the hit with a bloodthirsty grin. Something crunched in his nose, splattering blood everywhere, as he grabbed Ichigo's shihakusho with one hand and slugged him in the gut with the other. Ichigo doubled over, gasping, and Grimmjow swept his legs out from under him.

The pair tumbled out of the sky, landing with a thump on the rooftop of an apartment complex. Grimmjow smirked. "I think I win, Kurosaki," he purred, straddling Ichigo's hips as he pinned the substitute's shoulders to the roof.

Ichigo bucked against him, wincing as his zanpakuto dug into his spine. Grimmjow tightened his hold and applied more of his weight to Ichigo's chest, gleeful amusement dancing in his azure eyes. _See, I told you that you should have let me fight him_ , Ichigo's hollow grumbled, but he didn't sound annoyed. For a brief moment, Ichigo wondered why, until his hollow added, _Though I can't complain much about the current position_.

 _Just shut up_ , Ichigo muttered silently, cheeks heating.

Grimmjow snorted. "Earth to Kurosaki." When he didn't get an immediate response, he prodded Ichigo's chest. "You still there?"

"Talking to my hollow," Ichigo explained, making another halfhearted attempt to wriggle out from under Grimmjow. _Let's see… if I do this… yeah, no; he's got me fully pinned_. Ichigo wasn't worried; he still had his zanpakuto, and Grimmjow would be no match for him if he released his bankai. _I clearly need to brush up on my hand-to-hand combat, though_.

Grimmjow smirked, leaning harder on Ichigo's shoulders. His breath mingled with Ichigo's as he murmured, "Ready to yield?" Ichigo felt more blood rush to his cheeks at the espada's unexpected closeness; those last words had sounded almost tender.

"Aww, isn't this touching?" a soprano voice drawled from above them.

Grimmjow immediately leapt to his feet, followed a second later by Ichigo. "Who are you?" the substitute shinigami demanded, drawing his zanpakuto in a flurry of fabric. Grimmjow assumed an expression of boredom, but his stance betrayed his tension.

The female hollow hovering above them simpered. "Now, that's not very polite," she chided, fanning her translucent wings lazily. Grimmjow growled subvocally as she coiled dark tresses around her finger, eyes wide and innocent. She laughed. "Now, don't get your tail in a twist," she called, propping her hand on her hip in an exaggerated pinup pose. "You, at least, should recognize me."

Grimmjow bared his teeth in a disdainful sneer. "Arietta. Yeah, I remember you. Didn't I tell you that I'd break off that pretty little horn of yours if I ever saw you again?"

The seemingly-young hollow ran a hand over the pearly horn in the middle of her forehead. "Yeah, you did," she muttered, before grinning humorlessly at them. "But I'm afraid you won't get the chance." Her smile broadened, and Ichigo shuddered. The rows of jagged teeth made her look like a goblin out of a Victorian children's book – all sparkles and light on the surface, but pure nastiness below.

Ichigo leveled Zangetsu at her, summoning reiatsu into the blade. "Tell us what you want," he ordered brusquely. She fluttered her eyelashes at him, and he narrowed his eyes. Judging by her reiatsu, she was a lower-level arrancar. _So why is she acting so confident?_ Her level of arrogant unconcern conflicted with her delicate appearance and evident lack of power.

Arietta opened her mouth to answer, but Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Doesn't matter." He held up a hand, summoning scarlet fire into his palm. "Say goodbye."

As the cero streaked towards her, she laughed scornfully. "Nice try." With a flick of her wings, she darted out of its path. "But you've gotten slower, darling." Grimmjow snarled in fury as she soared higher and fluttered her fingers at them. "Until next time!"

She darted off in a blur of sonido, and Grimmjow growled. His legs tensed, ready to propel himself into the air, but he relaxed with a huff when Ichigo laid a hand on his shoulder. "What was that all about?" the substitute soul reaper asked softly.

Grimmjow shrugged. "Don't ask me. Arietta's a sneaky little bitch; she's hated me for a while." He rolled his eyes. "But I've got no clue why she's in the human world now." He rolled his shoulders, absentmindedly running his fingers over the panther claw tattoo, and grimaced. "Probably to cause trouble."

Ichigo nodded in agreement. Arietta's presence couldn't be a coincidence. _We'll be seeing more of her_ , he predicted grimly. _Can't I at least finish this school year in peace?_ He grimaced. The chances of that had disappeared with Nel's visit, and he knew it. _At least Grimmjow won't be here for much longer. How much trouble can he cause between now and then?_


	5. Common Courtesy 101

**Author's Note:**

Major thanks to both scarletsaber and Ferris for the lovely reviews! Ferris, in answer to your comment about Ichigo's fighting skills: he's very good for a human, but beating up human bullies is different than going toe-to-toe with an espada. I see it as the difference between a first degree and second degree black belt: there's not much difference, but a little is enough to matter! Grimmjow specializes in barehanded combat, and he's fought like that for decades. Ichigo can certainly hold his own against Grimmjow, but he doesn't have the years of practice that Grimmjow does.

Alright everyone, here's a new chapter for you! Near the end, there's a quote from the Konjaku Monogatarishu, which comes from a translation done by Zack Davisson. The Konjaku Monogatarishu is a Japanese collection of over 1,000 folk tales, written approximately a thousand years ago. I have no idea what Japanese students would read for a literature class, so I decided that they're studying it. If that's unrealistic, I apologize.

Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Common Courtesy 101  
**

"School?" Grimmjow yelped, staring indignantly at Ichigo. "You want me to go to school?" He said the last word in tones normally reserved for dental surgery or surprise exams.

The orange-haired teen snickered. "Yes, school. You're coming to school with me today." He rolled his eyes at Grimmjow's bewilderment. "What did you think would happen when you decided to pose as a German exchange student? You can't just sit around my room all day, you know."

Grimmjow bared his teeth, glaring at the ugly gray uniform that Ichigo had nonchalantly handed him a few minutes previously. "And I have to wear this?" He wrinkled his nose as Ichigo nodded. The espada hadn't woken up in the best mood – a restless night, punctuated by half-remembered, unsettling dreams, left him irritable and sleepy. The dull ache of his shoulder didn't help matters. The wound in his gut was healing nicely, but the puncture in his shoulder was barely scabbed over. _Did that bitch put poison on her blade, or something?_ Even Urahara's salve couldn't ease the pain entirely. Grimmjow had suffered far worse injuries, but they had never left him feeling as helpless as this one; his fingers itched to hold Pantera again. The vivid tattoo on his uninjured shoulder only reinforced the disconcerting feeling of powerlessness. _If that bitch Arietta comes back, it won't be pretty_. Ordinarily, he could pulverize her without breaking a sweat, but the power limiter made that significantly less likely.

He frowned. _Does she know that? Is that why she showed up last night? Or was she simply taunting me?_ From what he recalled, Arietta was not the brightest bulb of the lot – she had problems with impulse control, and could never resist jeering at an enemy. _Maybe last night was another one of her idiotic schemes_. But he couldn't shake the thought that it had been more than that. The notion dug at his mind like a tick, burrowing in and refusing to let go.

So he couldn't prevent the angry growl that escaped his lips when Ichigo casually informed him that they were leaving for school in fifteen minutes. The substitute soul reaper smirked. "It's really not that bad," he told Grimmjow calmly. "It's not like you'll have to do any of the homework, or anything." He cast a disparaging glance at his math textbook and the reams of notes scattered across his desk, and added, "And you don't have to take a calculus test, which you should be grateful for." His shoulders slumped, and he sighed as he swept the notes into his bag.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "So what am I supposed to do all day?" he demanded, plucking at the fabric as though it would disappear if he glared at it long enough.

Ichigo exhaled heavily and fixed Grimmjow with a hard stare. "Pretend you're human," he ordered. "Don't make trouble; don't pick a fight with my friends." His lips thinned. "If you scare Orihime, you get to spend the next week cleaning Urahara's shop." The teen's voice was deadly serious. He balanced on the balls of his feet in a combat-ready stance – if he had been in soul form, his hand would have been on his zanpakuto.

"Give it up, kid," Grimmjow huffed. "I won't hurt your friends. I already promised that, remember?" He was a bit offended by Ichigo's reluctance to trust him, but he understood the teen's position. _Still, does he really think I'd hurt the woman just because I can? I know how stupid that'd be_. He held no grudge against the girl, and she was no threat to him. _Hell, if she doesn't run away screaming, maybe she can heal this damn shoulder_.

Ichigo relaxed, giving Grimmjow a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I just don't want Orihime getting hurt. She's been through enough already." Grimmjow blinked in shock. An apology was the last thing he had expected from the substitute shinigami. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out, and he shut it again with a snap. Ichigo, oblivious to his internal confusion, just shrugged and motioned to the uniform in Grimmjow's hands. "You should get changed now, or we'll be late."

The pants and shirt were more comfortable than Grimmjow had expected, but the last item in the pile bewildered the former sexta. He stared at the long, thin piece of fabric, turning it this way and that to discern its purpose. It wasn't a belt or an obi, and it was too small to be used to strap a knife to his side. _Besides, I don't think most humans walk around armed_. Grimmjow snorted. _Humans are dumb_. Which meant that he shouldn't have any trouble navigating their world. But he had to admit that the odd item was puzzling.

Finally Ichigo took pity on him. "It's a tie," he explained, taking the fabric from Grimmjow. "Not everyone wears them, but it's useful to make a good first impression on the teachers."

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed. "Uh-huh," he replied dubiously. "And how do you wear it?" As far as he could tell, Ichigo wasn't wearing a similar contraption.

"It goes around your neck." Ichigo draped the tie around his own neck as an example. "Here, I'll tie it for you." He stepped closer to Grimmjow and looped the tie around the espada's throat. Grimmjow shivered as Ichigo's fingers brushed the sensitive skin near his jugular – the touch was cool against flesh that suddenly felt overheated. He let his head fall back, giving Ichigo room to work as his eyes slid partway closed.

In Hueco Mundo, a hollow who gave an enemy access to their throat was signaling their complete submission; it was tantamount to committing suicide. But the same gesture held a very different meaning when among friends or lovers. Grimmjow felt his breath catch in his throat as the fabric tightened, cinching into a comfortable snugness. The rumble of a purr started in his chest as Ichigo ran his fingers over the tie, smoothing it down before stepping away. "There," he announced, giving Grimmjow a pleased grin. "Perfect."

Grimmjow's eyes snapped open. _Fuck!_ he swore mentally. _What the hell am I thinking? He's an enemy, idiot!_ Hollows and shinigami were born to kill each other; that was the natural way of the world. _And you don't ever bare your throat to an enemy_ , he berated himself. Only weak, good-for-nothing losers gave up like that.

 _But he didn't feel like an enemy just now, did he?_ a little voice murmured in the back of his mind.

 _Shut up_ , Grimmjow snarled back. He shook his head roughly, dispelling the unwanted thoughts. "Thanks," he muttered gruffly, taking a quick step backwards to put more space between him and the teen.

Ichigo's smile faded as he took in the bewildering blend of emotions chasing each other across the espada's face. "You okay?" he asked slowly.

Grimmjow scowled. "Just shut up, Kurosaki," he growled, striding towards the door. "Didn't you say we were going to be late?" He didn't bother to wait for an answer as he yanked the door open and stalked down the hall. Ichigo followed with a mystified expression.

* * *

Grimmjow's odd behavior abated as they neared the school and the espada returned to his usual surly self, which pleased Ichigo immensely. He could handle Grimmjow's unpredictable temper and moodiness, but not whatever had caused the espada to act so weirdly that morning. _Is it just because he has to go to school and interact with other humans? Is that what was bothering him?_

Ichigo's hollow snickered. _You're so clueless, King_ , it muttered, before vanishing back into the depths of his mind. Ichigo scowled after it, demanding answers, but it only laughed at him.

 _Fine_ , Ichigo thought petulantly, kicking a battered can out of his path. _Be that way_.

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow as Ichigo shoved his hands into his pockets and quickened his pace. "I thought you said school wasn't that bad," he remarked, glancing sidelong as the grumpy teen. "So what's got your tail in a twist?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Besides the major math test after lunch?" _Let's see… there are only a thousand things that could go wrong today, and most of them center around you_. But he couldn't exactly tell the espada that. _Besides, he might actually behave himself_. Ichigo snorted. _Yeah, and the sun might rise in the west tomorrow_. The probabilities were approximately equal.

When he didn't add anything more, Grimmjow barked a laugh. "Come on, you've been studying for that thing for days. How hard can it be?"

Ichigo gave him a dirty look. "Says the guy who has never done calculus in his life," he muttered. "Trust me, math is hard." Unfortunately, it was also necessary to get into a good college.

Grimmjow chuckled and patted him commiseratingly on the shoulder. Ichigo nearly jumped out of his skin at the contact, which only made the espada laugh harder. "You'll do fine," he told Ichigo, clearly attempting to sound reassuring. The resulting tone was an odd blend of condescension, amusement, and awkwardness, but Ichigo wasn't about to tell Grimmjow that. The espada nudged Ichigo with his shoulder, and continued, "It can't be as hard as fighting Aizen, and you survived that. A stupid human test shouldn't be an issue."

"It's hard in a different way," Ichigo replied, scowling at the ground. "Fighting Aizen was…" He trailed off, and shrugged. "Well, you can guess." Grimmjow nodded slowly, a pensive expression on his face, and Ichigo sighed. "Whereas math is…" He hesitated, trying to find the best way to explain calculus to an arrancar. "Math is very rules-based. You can't just try things until they work; you have to do it one particular way. And if you don't memorize a hundred finicky rules about derivatives and integrals and limits and series, you're screwed." It felt like it shouldn't be too difficult, but every problem had a trick to it, and he couldn't quite get the hang of all of them.

"Still complaining about math, Kurosaki?" Uryu called across the street, abandoning his post against the school gates as they walked up. His eyes landed on Grimmjow and narrowed, hand reaching for the bracelet around his wrist. "What is _he_ doing here?"

"Calm your tits, quincy," Grimmjow drawled. "I'm not going to hurt anyone." He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave the slender student a sneer; Uryu returned it.

Ichigo heaved a sigh. "It's a long story," he told Uryu. "And I'd rather only tell it once. Have you seen Chad and Orihime yet?" He glanced about, but couldn't spot Orihime's distinctive hair or Chad's bulk towering over the crowd.

Uryu slowly lowered his hand from his wrist, letting the accumulated spirit particles drain back into the atmosphere. "Not yet," he said reluctantly, casting a suspicious glance at Grimmjow. "But they should be here soon." He glared at Ichigo. "What were you thinking, bringing him here? Have you forgotten what he did?" Though he kept his voice low, Grimmjow heard, and scowled.

"I'm right here, you know," he pointed out sardonically. "And, like I said, I promised that I wouldn't hurt anyone." He paused, and a sadistic grin spread across his features. "Unless they ask for it." The threat in his tone was obvious. Several passing students gave him an odd look before hurrying past them, joining the streams of students heading towards the school.

Uryu lifted an eyebrow. "You're welcome to try at any time," he informed the espada coldly. Spirit particles coalesced around his fingers in a blatant response to Grimmjow's challenge; Grimmjow's spiritual pressure rose in response.

"Alright, that's enough," Ichigo interrupted. He turned to Uryu. "Grimmjow is only here for a few days, and he swore that he would behave himself while in the human world. So please don't pick a fight with him." He transferred his gaze to Grimmjow, who snorted. "Same goes for you. Don't antagonize him."

"Yeah, whatever," Grimmjow muttered. He and Uryu wore similar expressions of disdain; Ichigo could practically hear the subtext of 'you're not the boss of me.' _I can't believe I ever let Urahara talk me into this insane idea_. He couldn't imagine what the eccentric scientist had been thinking. _I'll be lucky if I survive the morning, much less the entire day_. At least it was Friday – it had to be easier to keep the espada out of trouble during the weekend. _And then he can go home, and this farce will be over_. He studiously ignored the faint murmur of discontent that ran through his mind at the thought. _I can't wait_.

Uryu's expression suddenly brightened, and he waved at someone across the street. Ichigo turned to see Orihime and Chad hurrying across the crosswalk, clutching bulging bags of books to their chests. Orihime waved happily at the trio, but her cheerful expression faltered as she identified Grimmjow. Ichigo tensed. _Please, please, don't be upset_ , he begged silently. At least Chad didn't look perturbed, but then, nothing ever ruffled his feathers.

Orihime came to a halt a few feet away from the group, brown eyes wide and startled. She clutched at the hem of her short gray skirt with white-knuckled fingers, nibbling on her bottom lip as she stared at Grimmjow. Uryu immediately detached from the trio and strode to her side, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her mouth worked as she glanced from Ichigo to Grimmjow and back, silently mouthing something that Ichigo couldn't make out. His heart ached to see her so visibly tense, but he couldn't think of any words to reassure her.

Eventually it was Grimmjow who broke the uncomfortable silence. "Hey," he started, scuffing his foot along the ground. "Woman... uh, Inoue. Look…" He trailed off with a grimace. Jamming his hands deeper into his pockets, he muttered, "Look, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? Stop giving me those rabbit eyes."

A spark of laughter danced into Orihime's eyes at that. "Rabbit eyes?" she asked tentatively.

Grimmjow scowled. "Big, scared, like you're going to bolt at any second. Rabbit eyes." He glanced awkwardly at Ichigo, who shrugged back.

Orihime giggled. "Rabbits have cute eyes! They match their cute little noses and floppy ears." Her expression softened. "Sometimes I think it'd be fun to be a rabbit, don't you? They're so soft and fluffy." She glanced at Ichigo, and giggled, "Except the ones Rukia draws. Those don't always look that fluffy." Her humor dissipated as she looked back at Grimmjow, shoulders tensing. Ichigo winced in anticipation of her reaction, but Orihime didn't burst into tears or start screaming. Instead, she gave Grimmjow a tremulous smile and asked, "Grimmjow-san, what are you doing here?"

Ichigo heaved a sigh of relief, feeling vaguely guilty about his earlier worries. _I should have known that she wouldn't freak out if she saw an espada; she's stronger than that_.

 _Your friends are far less fragile than you give them credit for_ , Zangetsu intoned, and Ichigo sighed.

 _I know, old man_ , he replied wearily. _You've told me that before_. It was just hard to believe sometimes. _But they've gotten a lot stronger over the past couple years_. He needed to remember that; Orihime in particular had grown up. _She wouldn't let Ulquiorra or Grimmjow bully her now – not that she really did back then, either_. He could still see the terrified resolve in her face as she defied Grimmjow's order to heal him, despite her total lack of power.

None of that terror lurked in her stance now. When Grimmjow didn't answer her question, she turned to Ichigo with an inquiring look. "Ichigo-kun?" Chad nodded in silent support of the question.

Ichigo ran his fingers through his hair, leaving messy spikes behind. "It's a long…" he began for the tenth time.

"Iii-chiii-gooo!" Keigo's familiar voice broke through the conversation. Ichigo rolled his eyes and braced for the brown-haired teen's attack as Keigo hurtled towards the group, arms outstretched. "Iii-chiii-gooo!"

Moments before impact, Grimmjow grabbed Keigo's collar and yanked him backwards. A low growl rumbled from his chest as he drawled, "So, what the hell are you?" He lifted Keigo onto his toes, studying the teen with a disdainful expression, and Keigo gulped.

"He's a friend," Ichigo informed Grimmjow, laying a calming hand on the espada's arm. Much to his surprise, the espada relaxed a fraction under the touch, though he didn't release Keigo. The exuberant teen was dancing on his tiptoes, both hands clutching his collar as he panted for air. Little breathless whimpers tumbled from his lips, and he shot a pleading look at Ichigo. "Can you put him down now?" the orange-haired teen requested dryly.

Grimmjow snorted and dropped him. "You have weird friends." He shoved his hands back into his pockets, brushing against Ichigo's shoulder as he stepped backwards.

"What was that for?" Keigo complained, rubbing at the marks on his neck. His face was slowly returning to its normal color, but a dull flush remained under his skin.

Mizuiro, who had followed Keigo at a more sedate pace, shook his head in disappointment. "Really, Asano-san, you should know better," he chided.

Keigo turned on him with a look of betrayal and began berating him for failing to use Keigo's first name; Ichigo sighed. "Come on, guys, I'll explain the whole mess on the way to class," he promised. Uryu, Chad, and Orihime fell in line with him as he led the way to the front doors, launching into the story of Nel's sudden appearance and her 'present' for him. He kept his tone low, mindful of the looks that the group was receiving – everyone was interested in the muscular, tattooed new student.

The tale drew to a close just as the bell rang, and Orihime clapped her hands. "Oh, that's so sweet," she announced, beaming at Ichigo. "It's like something out of a fairy tale!" She giggled. "Redeeming the evil monster, you know." Grimmjow growled subvocally, and she flushed. "Oh, not that you're a monster, or anything," she added hastily.

Grimmjow gave her a feral smile, baring his canines. "Don't be so sure," he purred softly. His reiatsu rose around him, laden with dark menace, as his smirk widened.

Ichigo drove an elbow into his ribs. "Stop it," he scolded. "What did I say about trying to scare people?" He glanced around warily, but no one had noticed their little exchange yet. It was always hard to know, in Karakura Town, who might have just enough sensitivity to notice an odd fluctuation in spiritual pressure. So it was better to keep the displays of spiritual power to a minimum.

Grimmjow shrugged off the blow and furled his spirit energy. "You're no fun," he muttered resignedly.

The bell chimed again, and Orihime jumped. "We're going to be late!" she blurted out, snatching up her book bag and glancing around anxiously. "Come on!" She dashed off down the hall, closely followed by Uryu and Chad.

"Don't forget, you're a German exchange student," Ichigo hissed as he hurried after them.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he grumbled, scuffing his feet against the tiled floor as he followed the substitute shinigami. "I'm not stupid, you know."

Ichigo heaved a sigh. _Stupid, no. Reckless and arrogant, yes_. He could only hope that Grimmjow could maintain a pretense of humanity for the next four hours, and had the sense to make up plausible answers to the inevitable questions.

* * *

"So, Jaegerjaquez-san, you're from Germany?" Yukimura-sensei asked disinterestedly. Grimmjow nodded silently, and the middle-aged teacher sighed. "I'm guessing that you have not read the Konjaku Monogatarishu, then."

Grimmjow shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Uh, no… sensei," he replied, belatedly adding the honorific. Ichigo resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. _I was really hoping to avoid this_. He'd gotten lucky during his first three classes – the teacher for homeroom had simply waved Grimmjow to an empty desk and proceeded to conduct the class like usual, while the instructors in chemistry and history had ignored him after brief welcomes. Ichigo had hoped that the day would continue so smoothly. But unfortunately Yukimura-sensei, who taught literature, wasn't quite as willing to tolerate intruders into his classroom – especially if they hadn't read the ancient collection of folk literature that the class had been studying for the past month.

The instructor rolled his eyes. "You can share Kurosaki-san's copy, then." He turned his pale, chilly eyes on Ichigo. "I trust that you remembered to bring the book today, at least?" he challenged, tone laden with disdain. Ichigo nodded politely, forcing a scowl away from his face. He barely tolerated the strict teacher, and the feeling was mutual. Ichigo's numerous absences had only increased the animosity.

Then again, Yukimura-sensei didn't seem to like anyone. _I don't know why he chose to be a teacher, I think he hates all teenagers_. Ichigo huffed a sigh. _It's not like this class is useful anyway. Who cares about some dusty old book?_ It certainly wouldn't help any of them get into a good university, or get a job after college.

Yukimura-sensei's eyes narrowed, and Ichigo shuffled his feet guiltily. _Guess I didn't manage to keep a blank face after all_. But the literature teacher didn't launch into another interminable lecture on respect. Instead, he merely sighed and turned his gaze back to the papers on his desk. "Jaegerjaquez-san, you may take a seat next to Kurosaki-san. No talking, no passing notes, no cell phones or other electronic devices. Though you have not read the material that we will be covering, I expect you to pay close attention to the lecture." He waved a dismissive hand. "You may take your seats."

Grimmjow's reiatsu shifted irritably, and he rolled his eyes. "Yes, sir," he muttered sarcastically, baring his teeth.

Before Yukimura-sensei could react, Ichigo grabbed Grimmjow's hand and towed him towards the back of the classroom. "Don't start a fight you can't win," he ordered subvocally, shoving the espada towards an empty desk.

Grimmjow sneered. "He's just a human," he declared derisively, a little too loudly for Ichigo's comfort. A couple students glanced around curiously, then hastily averted their eyes when Grimmjow glared at them.

Ichigo groaned and slumped against his desk, burying ohis head in his arms. "Not. The. Point."

 _Oh, come on, King, you can't deny that you've fantasized about punching a teacher or two, showing them who's boss_. His hollow snickered. _Proving that you're so much better than them, so much better than all of them_.

 _That's your desire, not mine_ , Ichigo snapped back. Eerie laughter was his only response. He groaned again and slumped further into his seat, glancing at the clock as though it might suddenly speed up. _Only an hour until lunch_.

"Alright, class. Today we'll be discussing the thirty-sixth tale of the Konjaku Monogatarishu." The class quieted instantly as Yukimura-sensei rapped on the top of his desk. He scanned the room, a thin smile playing about his lips, as students scrambled to open their books to the correct section. "Jaegerjaquez-san, since you're new to the work, would you oblige us by reading the passage that begins on the top of page 89?"

Ichigo hastily passed his battered paperback to the espada, who grimaced as he stared down at the page. "Uh…" A curious mixture of rage and humiliation swirled through his spirit energy, making nearby students flinch. Orihime looked up at him with wide eyes, then gestured vigorously at Ichigo.

Ichigo stared at her in puzzlement before switching his gaze back to Grimmjow, who was still scowling at the text. "I'll read it, sensei," he interjected, reclaiming his book.

Yukimura-sensei flapped a hand. "Very well. Proceed."

"Once upon a time, Tosuke Ki was traveling to his estate in Mino province," he began, conscious of Grimmjow's gaze burning a hole in the back of his shirt. He hadn't even thought to ask if Grimmjow could read, though in retrospect it seemed like an obvious question. Where would an arrancar learn? _I kinda doubt Aizen bothered to teach them, and it's not like Hueco Mundo has a library or something_. Ichigo sighed. _Sorry_ , he apologized mentally, continuing to absentmindedly read the short story out loud to the class. _I guess school was an even worse idea than I originally thought_.

* * *

"Of course I can read!" Grimmjow snarled hotly, glaring at Uryu. He shifted awkwardly. "Just not well."

The quincy pushed his glasses up his nose and gave the espada a supercilious look. "There's nothing wrong with admitting that you lack the skill," he informed Grimmjow loftily. He leaned back against the old oak tree behind him, crossing his legs primly. The entire group – Ichigo, Grimmjow, Chad, Orihime, and Uryu – had claimed a spot in the courtyard for lunch; the bickering had begun only moments after they'd sat down.

Grimmjow snarled audibly at Uryu. "Shut up, quincy. I can read enough, alright?"

Orihime patted him on the shoulder and gave him a gentle smile. "It really is alright if you can't," she told him kindly. "I can teach you if you want." When Uryu opened his mouth to protest, she sent him a quelling look, and Ichigo had to hide a grin. _She really does have him wrapped around her little finger_.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and bit into the sandwich that Yuzu had made for him that morning. "Just drop it," he ordered rudely. Orihime's expression dimmed, and he sighed. "Alright, fine. I guess you can teach me if you really want to," he muttered gruffly. She beamed at him.

Ichigo couldn't hide his smile any longer. Clearly Uryu wasn't the only one affected by Orihime's charm. _It's rather adorable, actually, the way Grimmjow backed down once she gave him a sad look_. He dug into his sandwich, smiling appreciatively at the delicious combination of flavors. Grimmjow had already devoured three-quarters of his, despite his protests that morning that he didn't want or need a sack lunch. He'd given in then, too. _First Yuzu, and now Orihime… who would have guessed that Grimmjow had a soft side?_ If only it showed up more often.

An upperclassman girl strolled past them, nose buried in a book, and Grimmjow wolf-whistled appreciatively. "Cute ass!" he declared, just loud enough for the girl to hear. She didn't bother to look up from her book, but her footsteps quickened as she hurried away.

"Grimmjow, you really shouldn't say such things," Orihime rebuked, giving him a chiding look.

Grimmjow lifted an eyebrow. "Why? It's a compliment, isn't it?" He smirked, casting a lecherous glance after the girl. "Plus, it's true. She's got a smoking hot ass in that short skirt of hers." As he turned his attention back to his sandwich, clearly assuming the conversation over, Ichigo shifted uncomfortably on the bench. _Why does Grimmjow have such a talent for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time?_ It was as if he couldn't behave himself for more than a few minutes at a time.

Orihime sighed, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. "It's not a compliment," she explained patiently. "It's harassment." When Grimmjow rolled his eyes uncomprehendingly, she asked, "How would you feel if guys were continually whistling at you and yelling rude comments?"

Grimmjow snorted. "That'd be great!" He waved his hands in the air, sketching the shape of an hourglass. "Hot guys, hot ladies, they can whistle at me all they want! It'd be awesome." He flexed his muscles, reminding Ichigo of the preening way Yumichika constantly adjusted his hair and clothing.

"No, it wouldn't," Orihime countered. "Think about it. Every day, without fail, people yelling at you, whistling at you… And when you don't respond, they often start cursing at you, calling you a bitch, or a prude, or..." She faltered, a faint blush tinting her cheeks pinks, but continued, "Or, well, worse names." Grimmjow glanced away as she fixed him with a firm stare. "Trust me, it's not pleasant. The guys aren't trying to compliment you, they're trying to prove that they have power over you." She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt and glanced away, shoulders hunched.

 _She must get that a lot_ , Ichigo realized. Though she was only sixteen, a casual observer would probably guess that she was in her early twenties. _With her, well_ – he blushed to think about it – _figure, she must get a lot of guys hitting on her_. He never noticed it, but this wasn't the first time she had commented on it.

It was, however, the first time she had talked about it in any detail. Unfortunately, Grimmjow appeared unappreciative. "It's just a compliment," he repeated, sounding baffled. "So I told her she's got a great ass. So what? I'm not trying to insult her or something." He ran his fingers through his electric blue hair, leaving behind messy spikes.

Orihime toyed with her hem for a moment longer before taking a deep breath. "Alright, look at it this way. Let's say the person whistling at you is a vasto lorde, and you don't know them. However, you know that they're stronger than you, that they could easily overpower you if they chose." Grimmjow nodded slowly. Orihime bit her lip, and continued, "If you ignore them, they're likely to insult you, and possibly attack you. But if you respond positively, they might take that as a sign that you're interested in them, and continue the interaction. What happens if you don't want that? What if you simply want to go home?" Before Grimmjow could say anything, she added fiercely, "Remember, this is a vasto lorde. If they choose to attack you, there's little you can do."

"Hah," Grimmjow scoffed. "Not gonna happen. I don't yield to anybody." Then he scowled. "But yeah, if it was someone Barragan's level, or Starrk's level, it might be a bit of a problem." At Ichigo's incredulous stare, he snorted. "What? I'm not that dumb, okay?"

"I didn't say anything," Ichigo replied, returning Grimmjow's scowl.

Orihime raised her hands peaceably. "So, imagine that it's Barragan," she suggested, shivering. Uryu touched her shoulder lightly, and she forced a smile. "If he started hitting on you, how would that feel?"

Grimmjow's mouth puckered as if he'd bitten into a lemon. "That'd be disgusting!" he objected. "That guy was a total creep, almost as bad as Szayel." Ichigo nodded in sympathy – he had heard stories of the ancient hollow. _Wasn't he the one who took Soi Fon's arm and Hachi's hand? He was a real piece of work_.

Orihime nodded. "Exactly. It'd be disgusting. That's what it feels like when a random guy wolf-whistles at us." Her shoulders tensed further, and Uryu wrapped his arm around them. She sighed and relaxed, mahogany eyes dark with unreadable emotions.

Grimmjow looked bewildered. "But… don't you like being complimented?"

Uryu intervened this time. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he explained coolly, "Grimmjow, 'great ass' is not a compliment. 'You look beautiful in that scarf' is a compliment, as is 'I love your new haircut.' However, crude commentary on a part of a girl's body, neglecting to acknowledge the fact that she is a person, not an object placed on the earth for your pleasure, is not a compliment." He gave Grimmjow a superior look. "Make sense?"

Grimmjow bared his teeth at Uryu's condescending tone. "Watch it, quincy," he warned. "I'd be happy to kick your ass any time you want." His reiatsu, muffled as it was by his gigai, couldn't rise much, but Ichigo could feel the increase in pressure.

Before things could devolve further, Ichigo announced, "Hey, I think lunchtime is almost over." They still had fifteen minutes, but that couldn't be helped.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Smooth, Kurosaki," he muttered. "Always protecting someone." He sneered at Uryu, who gave him a hard stare in return.

"I don't need his protection," he bit out coldly, one hand on the quincy cross dangling from his wrist.

Grimmjow opened his mouth to say something snarky, but Orihime cut him off. "Boys, boys, don't fight," she implored them, spreading her hands wide. Uryu reluctantly eased backwards, but Grimmjow scowled.

"I still don't get why girls can't just accept it as a compliment, the way it's meant," he objected petulantly.

Orihime took several slow, deep breaths. "Grimmjow, if Barragan told you that you have a…" she blushed, "great butt, would that be a compliment?" She couldn't quite look him in the eye as she finished the sentence.

"Yeah," Grimmjow began. Then he hesitated. "Well, I guess it'd be kinda creepy," he allowed. "But that's cause it's Barragan."

Orihime lifted her eyebrows. "So it's creepy to be hit on by people you don't know very well, who have the ability to overpower you at any time?" Her chocolate brown eyes hardened as she fixed them on Grimmjow's teal ones.

Grimmjow shrugged. "Sure, I guess." His tone evinced his lack of complete comprehension, but he didn't outright sneer at Orihime. _It's better than nothing, I guess_ , Ichigo concluded.

Orihime sighed. "Yes, it's creepy. Which is why girls don't like it – it's not a compliment!" Her voice rose slightly on the last words before she exhaled slowly. Standing, she pasted a bright smile on her face and smoothed down her skirt. "Anyway, Ichigo-kun is right; lunch is almost over." As the rest of them began to rise and pack up their lunchboxes, she hurried into the school. Uryu followed at her heels, but not before casting a baleful glance over his shoulder at Grimmjow.

Chad, who had remained silent the whole time, nodded once at the espada. "Listen to her," he advised, before following Uryu and Orihime into the school.

Grimmjow stared after the trio in bewilderment. "It's… oh, screw this," he snarled.

Ichigo heaved a sigh. "You'll learn eventually," he muttered. "Come on, let's get to class." _I've got a math test to complete_.


	6. Mean Value Theorem

**Author's Note:**

I apologize for the terrible length of time between updates; life has been crazy recently. First I had finals, and the weeks leading up them, which were insanely stressful. Then my shiny new laptop decided to turn into a brick, the day after finals were done. At least it waited until after finals, right? This chapter was written on my iPad, so I hope there aren't too many errors; my laptop will be an expensive paperweight for the next few weeks, at least. Once I get it back, I hope to return to a semi-regular update schedule, so please be patient with me!

Thank you to scarletsaber, LittleFoxDemon, and Kimikozumi for their lovely reviews! Also, major thanks to Nova Alexandria, who not only left a review, but was kind enough to point out errors I'd been making when describing the Japanese school system. It's thanks to her that a few elements of this chapter exist (hopefully I got them right this time).

If anyone is curious about the math problems Ichigo is trying to solve at the beginning of the chapter, leave a review/send me a PM and I can explain. If not, enjoy the chapter!

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Mean Value Theorem  
**

"Alright, class. You may turn over your papers and begin working. You have fifty minutes, starting now."

Ichigo flipped over the test and stared blankly down at the first problem. _Use the Taylor series for sin(x) to find the bound on the error when estimating sin(0.1), assuming that the series is truncated to R5_. He frowned, tapping his pencil against the paper. _Let's see. The Taylor series for sin(x) has the even exponents, right? No, wait, that's cosine. Sine has odd exponents_. He scribbled the first few terms of the series on the paper before pausing to nibble on the end of his pencil. _I know I know this_. He'd completed at least a dozen error estimation problems the prior night; he could practically see the page of the textbook describing the process. The formula had been halfway down the page, enclosed in a pale blue box. _Why can I visualize the damn box, but not the formula itself?_

The scrape of chair legs distracted him from his musings. Ichigo glanced back in time to see Grimmjow tip his chair back and swing his legs up onto his borrowed desk, interlacing his fingers behind his head. The substitute soul reaper groaned quietly. _Does he really have that low of a tolerance for boredom?_ Barely five minutes had passed since the start of the test. _He could at least pretend to be working_.

Fujimoto-sensei glanced up and narrowed her eyes. "Jaegerjaquez-san, sit properly," she ordered curtly.

Grimmjow heaved an audible sigh and dragged his legs off his desk, returning to a slouched position in his chair. "Stupid human rules," he muttered under his breath. For a moment, Ichigo entertained the forlorn hope that his teacher hadn't heard, but no such luck.

Fujimoto-sensei stalked over to Grimmjow's desk and propped her hands on her hips. "Do you have something to say, Jaegerjaquez-san?" Students surreptitiously swiveled their heads to watch, and the espada mumbled a no. She sighed. "Because you're new, I won't send you to the principal's office this time, but I expect you to behave yourself for the rest of the class. Understood?" He nodded sullenly. "Good."

Silence reigned for another ten minutes, in which Ichigo managed to solve two problems and decide that he had no hope of figuring out a third. He had just started work on Problem 4 – find the bounds where the alternating geometric series converges, or prove that it diverges everywhere – when he heard a soft hiss from behind him. "Hey! Kurosaki!" The tone was unmistakably Grimmjow's.

Ichigo groaned. _What now?_ He threw a glare over his shoulder, silently ordering Grimmjow to be quiet, then turned back to his test. _First things first: I need to prove that the terms of the series decrease as the series gets longer_. Thankfully, that was easy to do for the alternating geometric series.

"Kurosaki!" Apparently deciding that Ichigo hadn't heard him, Grimmjow spoke louder this time.

"Shut up!" Ichigo hissed, glancing furtively over his shoulder. "Not now!" The former sexta's eyes glowed with an odd mixture of eagerness and frustration, but Ichigo wasn't in the mood to figure out why. The only thing he cared about at the moment was passing his math test – unless Aizen had broken out of prison and massacred the Gotei 13, he didn't want to hear about it. Grimmjow's boredom was nowhere on the list of things he was willing to deal with.

Grimmjow huffed and rolled his eyes, infuriated by Ichigo's casual dismissal. The substitute soul reaper's head was bowed over his test, orange hair falling in messy waves around his face as he deliberately shut out the rest of the world. Grimmjow grinned. Tearing the corner off of his blank test and rolling it into a ball, he flicked it at Ichigo.

The orange-haired teen yelped as the paper struck him in the back of the neck. "Damn it, Grimmjow," he growled, spinning in his seat to fix the espada with a livid stare. "Can't you behave for a freaking hour?"

"Kurosaki-san, no talking," Fujimoto-sensei warned, glancing up from her desk.

Grimmjow's next spitball sailed past Ichigo's ear and plopped onto her desk.

"Alright, that's enough!" Ichigo froze as the normally mild-mannered teacher rose with a face like thunder. "Kurosaki-san, Jaegerjaquez-san, report to the principal's office immediately." She shook her head sadly. "Kurosaki-san, I expect better from you." Ichigo winced. He actually liked Fujimoto-sensei, though he despised her class. She was always willing to answer his questions, and she had been incredibly patient with him as he struggled to catch up. But now her mouth was pressed into a thin, disapproving line, and her expression lacked any hint of warmth. Ichigo sighed. _Damn it, Grimmjow_. He scowled as he swept his pencil and calculator into his bag, yanking it over his shoulder and slouching towards the door. Grimmjow followed, looking vaguely guilty, and Ichigo's hands clenched. _If I fail this class because of this, I swear you'll regret it_.

* * *

"I'm going to kill you," Ichigo muttered for the tenth time, moodily kicking the hard wooden bench with his heel. "If I get suspended or fail my math class, it's all your fault."

Grimmjow folded his arms and slouched lower on the bench. "Shut up, Kurosaki," he snarled halfheartedly. They had been sitting outside the principal's office for nearly twenty minutes while Ichigo's temper slowly boiled over, and Grimmjow was sick of it. Ordinarily, he'd welcome a fight, but not like this. Pissing off the teen was one thing; it made the combat more enjoyable for both of them. But he didn't like the true undertone of fury lurking in Ichigo's reiatsu, nor the quiet sense of worry that the substitute shinigami was doing his best to hide. _It's just a stupid math test; why is he so upset?_

"You know, there really…" he started, trying yet again to point out that he hadn't meant to get Ichigo in trouble.

"Shut up."

Grimmjow hissed audibly, showing his canines. _Fine. Be that way_. If Ichigo wanted to ignore the arrancar that might or might not be hovering over the school, that was his prerogative. _He can stew in his own ignorance if he wants to_. He scowled. _But he doesn't have to bite my head off when I try to tell him what I sensed_.

Not that he had sensed much. Arietta, despite her numerous flaws, was skilled at hiding her presence. _But I'm pretty sure that I felt a flare of her reiatsu_. That by itself wouldn't be cause for alarm; she was too weak to be a significant threat, and too cunning to attack when at a disadvantage. _There's no way she'd challenge a group comprised of me, Ichigo, that quincy, and the rest of the powerful humans around here_. Every arrancar in Hueco Mundo knew about the group that had demolished half of Las Noches in the process of rescuing their friend, and no one wanted to tangle with them alone.

 _The problem is, I don't think the bitch is alone_. There had been a second flare of reiatsu shortly after the first, noticeable only because Grimmjow had been on high alert after sensing Arietta. Even with his senses fully extended, he'd almost missed it; the power limiter tattooed on his shoulder severely limited his pesquisa.

Grimmjow ran his finger over the spiky black markings, frowning. _I couldn't tell who it was, but it felt familiar. It was definitely an arrancar, though_. The oily energy of a high-level hollow, mixed with a touch of acidic shinigami power, was unmistakable. _Probably one of the idiots who thought they could defeat me, and now wants revenge_.

In retrospect, he had been foolish to leave any of his enemies alive, but he had harbored a faint hope of rebuilding his pack. All of his fraccion had been enemies at one point, before he had taken control, but they had been loyal to him once he defeated them. There was no shame in finding a powerful leader to follow – survival was far easier with a group. _Even Barragan had fraccion_. Only Starrk had been essentially alone, and that was due to his overwhelming spiritual pressure. _And he still had Lilynette, though she wasn't really a fraccion_. Loners died quickly on the bloodstained sands.

Unfortunately, none of the arrancar who he'd defeated had been interested in following him. After he'd eaten a chunk of them, they'd been no threat, so he'd left them alone. _Maybe I'm getting soft_. Maybe he should have killed them all once they declined his offer. _But no, I'm as foolish as the morons who think they can defeat me just cause I'm injured_. He rubbed his aching shoulder and wrinkled his nose. _I'm strong, I'm powerful, I don't need them… I don't need anyone_.

"Kurosaki-san, Jaegerjaquez-san, the principal will see you now." The mousy secretary poked her head out of the office, giving them a sympathetic smile as she waved them in. Ichigo grumbled something under his breath as he strode through the doorway, permanent scowl fixed firmly on his face. Grimmjow rolled his eyes and followed, dragging his feet. _This whole school thing is starting to feel just like Las Noches_.

The principal even had the same supercilious look as Aizen, as though he knew best and wanted to make sure that everyone knew it. gHe smiled genially at Ichigo when he entered, motioning for him to take a seat in one of the plastic chairs in front of his imposing oak desk. Then his eyes landed on Grimmjow. "You must be the exchange student Urahara-san told me about," he exclaimed, holding out a hand for Grimmjow to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet another one of Urahara-san's prodigies."

 _Prodigies?_ Grimmjow blinked dazedly as he accepted the principal's hand. His grip was warm and firm as he smiled at Grimmjow with the open, honest gaze of a born con man. _What does he mean, prodigies? And how does he know Urahara?_ Ichigo looked as stunned as Grimmjow felt, which was hardly reassuring. Beneath the tasteful cologne, the man smelled entirely human, with no spiritual pressure worth mentioning, so he couldn't be one of the enigmatic scientist's agents. _So who is he?_ Did he know what Grimmjow was?

If he did, he showed absolutely no sign of it. "Please, Jaegerjaquez-san, take a seat. This won't take long." Grimmjow perched on the edge of the uncomfortable chair, legs curled beneath him and ready to pounce, and the principal smiled paternally. "I understand that you two were sent here by Fujimoto-sensei?"

Ichigo grimaced. "Yes sir." He cast a disparaging glance at Grimmjow, but refrained from saying anything more.

The principal's smile grew strained. "Would you care to elaborate, Kurosaki-san?"

Ichigo's shoulders slumped as he sighed. Throwing another frustrated glance in Grimmjow's direction, he gave the principal a terse explanation of the mess in math class. There wasn't much to tell, but his cheeks were crimson with humiliation by the time he finished. Grimmjow winced. He'd been in that position before, when Aizen had called him up in front of the espada and ordered him to explain his actions, and he had always hated it. Judging by Ichigo's expression, he found it equally painful.

When the awkward recitation finished, the principal – Grimmjow still didn't know his name – sighed. "Kurosaki-san, I thought you told me that your days of getting in fights were over." Grimmjow suspected that he wanted to sound fatherly, but he mostly came across as condescending.

"They are, sir," Ichigo muttered, folding his arms over his chest and prodding the floor with a toe. Grimmjow smirked. So, Ichigo had been a troublemaker when he was younger? _No surprise there. He's born to fight_. But the principal was obviously clueless if he thought that Ichigo had stopped brawling entirely. _No, he's just got more interesting opponents now… like me_.

The principal nodded. "Good, good. So this won't happen again." It wasn't a question. As Ichigo nodded slowly, the principal turned to Grimmjow. "Jaegerjaquez-san, I must say that I am disappointed. Urahara-san assured me that your time here would be productive, yet I find you already in trouble. Would you care to explain yourself?"

There it was again, that mention of Urahara. Grimmjow frowned. What had the former captain told the principal? It couldn't have been the truth, unless the man was a superb actor; everything in his manner suggested that he was simply reprimanding a student. _So he must believe I'm a German exchange student, apparently a prodigy according to Urahara. And I guess I'm not the first one who's shown up here_. Maybe shinigami also went undercover at the school, though Grimmjow had no idea why they would bother.

The principal eyed Grimmjow expectantly, and the former sexta sighed. "Sorry, sir. It won't happen again." It was what he told Aizen every time the megalomaniac shinigami was irritated with him.

Aizen had never liked the response, though, and it seemed like the principal didn't either. "Jaegerjaquez-san…" he sighed, rubbing his temples with his index fingers. "If you were truly sorry, you wouldn't have done it in the first place."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. _Of course I'm not sorry, I just want you to stop talking_. It was tempting to say that out loud, but he suspected that Ichigo would slaughter him if he did so. For some reason, he didn't want to make the substitute shinigami to be furious with him, though a certain level of irritation was enjoyable. _Yeah, I really am getting soft_. But ignoring his instincts never ended well, so he kept his mouth shut.

The principal sighed again, steepling his hands in front of his face. "I cannot let this go unpunished," he informed both of them. "I want you two to spend an extra hour today cleaning the school and grounds; I expect them to be spotless once you're done. Feel free to spend longer if necessary – it will work off some of that excess energy you clearly have." He favored them with a wry smile. "Kurosaki-san, I'm sure Fujimoto-sensei will allow you to complete your test after you finish cleaning." Ichigo bit back a grimace.

A tantalizingly faint flare of reiatsu made Grimmjow's head jerk up. Ichigo narrowed his eyes, while the principal, oblivious, blathered on about the value of hard work and discipline. Grimmjow tuned him out, expanding his pesquisa in an attempt to trace the spirit energy before it dissipated. _Come on, where are you?_ The miasma of spiritual pressure around the school impeded his senses, obscuring the trail and hiding the rapidly-vanishing flare. Grimmjow's fists clenched. Yet again, he couldn't tell who was out there or where they were.

"You okay?" Ichigo muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Grimmjow nodded shortly. Ichigo gave him a skeptical look, but turned his attention back to the principal in time to give a "Yes, sir" in response to the man's latest question.

The principal stood, offering a hand to Ichigo, and Grimmjow realized that the meeting was over. He shifted impatiently from foot to foot as Ichigo and the principal exchanged pleasantries, practically snarling as it dragged on, until the principal finally dismissed them. The foreign spiritual pressure danced on the edge of his perception, making him twitch like sand fleas had invaded his fur; the sensation only grew worse as they walked through the school.

Finally Ichigo snapped, "Okay, what's up?"

"I don't know!" Grimmjow whirled and threw a punch into the wall. "There's something out there, but I can't sense it clearly, and it's driving me crazy!" It almost felt like the strange presence, whatever it was, was taunting him. He wouldn't put it past Arietta to do something like that, but the reiatsu didn't hold her scent. _No, it's someone else, I think. Though she might be mixed up in it too_.

Ichigo winced as the tiled wall fractured. "We just got out of the principal's office, do you really want to return?"

Grimmjow growled wordlessly and stalked down the hallway. "And now it's gone." The spiritual pressure had vanished as if it had never existed, and any remaining traces were buried under the combined reiatsu of all the powerful humans around. "Why the hell can't any of you control your damn spiritual pressure?" It was an unfair accusation, and he knew it, but that didn't damp his frustration.

"You're not doing such a good job of that either," Ichigo returned dryly. "If not for the power limiter Hat and Clogs gave you, your reiatsu would be visible for miles."

Grimmjow blinked in surprise, coming to an abrupt halt. Taking stock of his energy output, he realized that Ichigo was right – his reiatsu raged around him in a furious storm constrained only by the power limiter. He was pleased to feel how much it had recovered, but his lack of control embarrassed him. If he'd lost control like that in Hueco Mundo, he'd practically be begging to get attacked. Hastily pulling his reiatsu back under his skin, he muttered a gruff "Shut up" and hurried down the corridor.

Ichigo snorted. "Where are you going? We've still got Geography, then it's time for o soji." At Grimmjow's confused look, he explained, "Everyone spends a bit of time to clean the school." He made a face. "And then we've got more cleaning, I guess, though I don't know what we're supposed to do for that. Maybe clean up the chem labs or something."

Grimmjow reluctantly turned his steps in the direction of Ichigo's classroom, pace slowing noticeably. "Do we have to? I bet no one would notice if we left after everyone else leaves." Cleaning had always been the job of lesser arrancar, not espada.

A sardonic smile tugged at Ichigo's lips. "Trust me, they'd notice. Almost no one leaves school after o soji; everyone has mandatory club meetings and extracurriculars. Unless you want to hang out here for an extra couple hours…" He spread his hands.

"Mandatory clubs, mandatory cleaning, mandatory classes… don't you people ever get to do anything for fun?" Even the espada had been able to manage their own time, as long as they finished their missions for Aizen. Grimmjow tended to spend his free time brawling or flirting, but apparently neither was acceptable here. _Stupid human customs_. It was becoming a constant refrain. Of course, he could just ignore them, but for some reason that idea didn't appeal to him.

"Don't complain. It's your fault we're in this mess," Ichigo snapped, running his fingers through his hair. "If not for your inability to sit still for five minutes, we wouldn't have to spend an extra hour cleaning today. I swear, you're worse than a toddler."

Grimmjow bridled. "I am not!" He gave Ichigo a shove, sending the orange-haired teen stumbling. "I'm no cub, and I had something important to tell you, okay?" Flattening his palm against Ichigo's chest, he pinned the substitute shinigami against the wall. "If you'd just listened, rather than ignoring me, we wouldn't have gotten in trouble!" By the time he reached the end of the sentence, his face was only a foot away from Ichigo's.

Ichigo folded his arms and glared at Grimmjow, unperturbed by the espada's proximity. "The middle of a math test is a terrible time to tell me anything, moron!" he snarled back, eyes flashing. "Next time, wait until it's over!" He pushed Grimmjow's hand away, and the former sexta let it fall to his side.

"Yeah, because the arrancar outside will happily wait till you're done with your stupid test," he sneered. "Or would you rather get ambushed without warning?" Not that he truly thought the latter had been likely; the reiatsu flare had been too faint for that. But he didn't understand how Ichigo could prioritize a test over knowledge of possible danger – it was an incredibly foolhardy decision.

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "You wanted to warn me about arrancar outside?" he asked slowly.

"Duh," Grimmjow drawled, borrowing the human expression from Jinta. "I told you I had something important to tell you."

"So why didn't you tell me that earlier?" Ichigo snapped, ducking around Grimmjow and resuming his walk towards his classroom. "Don't you think that would have been useful to know earlier?"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "I tried, but you wouldn't let me," he pointed out. Ichigo hesitated, and Grimmjow grabbed his arm. "Plus, by the time I got the chance, I couldn't sense them anymore." He hated to admit that, but it was the truth. There would have been no point in warning Ichigo about a nonexistent threat, especially when Grimmjow hadn't been positive that it had ever existed in the first place. _Damn Urahara and his damn power limiter. I want Pantera back, dammit! I want to be whole again_. His hand drifted towards his hip, and he grimaced. _I hate feeling this fucking powerless; it sucks._ His nerve endings vibrated with the need for release; he felt like he'd been injected with one of Szayel's vile pepper-up potions. His regenerating spirit energy, trapped by the power limiter, clawed at the inside of his skin as it tried to escape.

When he felt this antsy in the desert, he'd find someone to fight or fuck, and take the edge off the sensation that way. _But I'm not going to get that anytime soon_. At least not the latter. He might be able to draw Ichigo into another sparring match, which would satisfy the former urge for a time.

Ichigo, oblivious to Grimmjow's internal musings, nibbled on his lower lip. "And you can't sense them now, either." He closed his eyes and Grimmjow felt a rising tide of dark spiritual pressure flow past him. The hollow-infused power sparked against his skin like static electricity, sending heat straight to his groin; he inhaled sharply and gritted his teeth. _Kurosaki, what the hell do you think you're doing?_ It wasn't his fault that Grimmjow was on edge, but that flood of reiatsu was like waving a steak in front of a starving lion. What was worse, Ichigo clearly had no idea of the effect he was having. _Fuck, kid, I swear to the kami_ …

Thankfully, Ichigo furled his power after an agonizingly long moment. "I can't feel anything right now, either, but I'll keep an eye out," he declared. He offered Grimmjow a quick smile. "Thanks." Pulling out of Grimmjow's grip, he strode down the hall, leaving Grimmjow staring after him with a flustered expression. _Does he really… Is he really that fucking oblivious?_

* * *

When Grimmjow found himself looking for excuses to brush up against Ichigo as they slogged through their hour of cleaning, he growled internally. _Stop it_ , he ordered himself, resisting the urge to leer at Ichigo's butt as the teen bent over to empty a trash can. _This is stupid, and you know it_. He wasn't interested in an unwilling partner, and Ichigo had shown no signs of interest. _Besides, I just need a quick, hard fuck to get this rid of this pressure, and then I'll be fine. I can get that anywhere_. He was only fixating on Ichigo because the substitute shinigami was both powerful and nearby. His innocent attractiveness didn't hurt either. _Still, I don't care. He's a shinigami, remember? He'll always be your enemy_. The reminder did little to dampen his libido.

Thankfully, the grimy task took care of most of that. By the time they were done, Grimmjow's back ached and his hands were caked with dirt. "This is disgusting," he complained, making a face at the pile of dirty cleaning rags. They had been scrubbing down the gear used by the physical education classes, which had left the stench of sweat ingrained in his skin; he desperately wanted to shed his gigai and leave the noisome human world far behind him.

Ichigo looked as grumpy as he felt. Sweat matted his hair into spikes, and a smudge of dirt on his cheekbone made him look like he'd been punched. "Again, this is your fault," he reminded Grimmjow acidly. "Be glad it's only an hour."

"Even cleaning Urahara's shop wasn't this bad," Grimmjow muttered, swiping a hand across his forehead. The smell of failed experiments was far preferable to the reek of sweaty teenagers, and the shoten had been mercifully free of giggling onlookers. Grimmjow bared his teeth at the trio of boys from the kendo club lounging nearby. _Stupid humans, thinking they're oh so superior. I'm a king, dammit! They have no right to laugh at me_.

The rational part of his mind tried to point out that the boys were paying no attention to them, and were probably laughing at something else, but he ignored it. He was hot, tired, and frustrated; he didn't have to listen to reason.

"Can you sense anything?" Ichigo asked abruptly. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he cast furtive glances at the groups of students lingering nearby.

Grimmjow frowned. "No," he started. Then he paused. "Actually…" There was something out there, like a sound pitched slightly too high to register in normal hearing. It made the skin on the back of his neck itch, but he couldn't get a clear fix on it. He snarled. "Nothing recognizable."

Ichigo nibbled on his lower lip, staring around with a pensive expression. "Damn." Stooping low, he gathered an armload of athletic equipment, and sighed. "Come on, let's put this stuff back."

The inside of the supply closet was cramped and dark, lit only by a flickering fluorescent lightbulb dangling from the ceiling. The air tasted like dust and stale sweat, but Grimmjow found his attention caught by the unique scent carried by Ichigo's reiatsu. In the tight confines of the tiny room, it felt almost overwhelming. He hastily dumped his load of gear in the proper bin and backed up until his shoulder blades hit the wall, ignoring the instincts that urged him to do otherwise. _He's a shinigami, dammit!_

Ichigo lifted an eyebrow at his odd behavior, but said nothing. Silence reigned for a long moment as the substitute shinigami arranged the equipment in the bins, staring at it with an abstract gaze that suggested his mind was somewhere far away. Grimmjow could see his lips moving, but he didn't say anything until he placed the last lacrosse face mask onto a shelf. Then he sighed. "Could you… would you be able to sense more if your powers weren't restrained?"

"Duh," Grimmjow snorted. "But I don't think your scientist friend would be willing to take off the limiter."

"Probably not," Ichigo admitted, slumping against a large crate. "I hate the idea that we're being watched, though." He tapped his fingers on his leg, scowling.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Your powers aren't restrained. Why can't you sense them?" Any halfway competent shinigami with more than a drop of reiatsu ought to be able to detect the presence of an arrancar or two.

"I've never been very good at that," Ichigo admitted sheepishly.

Grimmjow barked a laugh, prowling closer to the embarrassed teenager. "Captain-class shinigami and you can't even sense a measly arrancar?" he taunted.

Ichigo's spiritual pressure flared with annoyance, and Grimmjow sucked in a breath. "Shut up," Ichigo snarled, pushing himself off of the crate to stand nose-to-nose with Grimmjow. "You're not doing any better!"

Grimmjow was too busy imagining what Ichigo's skin would taste like to reply. The dark reiatsu swirling around them sent sparks through his bloodstream; his own spirit energy rose in response. As Ichigo's ire faded to puzzlement, Grimmjow took a shaky breath. _Maybe teasing him wasn't such a good idea_ … The young vizard's reiatsu was as intoxicating as a shot of pure whiskey. Grimmjow's canines ached, urging him to sink his teeth into the nearest bit of bare skin.

He took a small step forward. "Grimmjow?" Ichigo asked hoarsely. A faint tinge of pink stained his cheeks, but he didn't back away. "Are you…"

Whatever else he had planned on saying vanished beneath a startled squeak as Grimmjow slanted his mouth across Ichigo's. For a brief second, Ichigo's lips softened beneath Grimmjow's, sending fire through the espada's nerve endings. Then Ichigo yelped and pulled away. "What the hell?" Without waiting for an answer, he yanked the door open and stormed away.

Grimmjow shrugged ruefully. _He'll punch me later, but that was totally worth it_. Adjusting his slacks into a more comfortable position, he hurried after the substitute shinigami. _Shinigami or not, he tastes delicious_. He swiped his tongue over his lips and grinned. _Yep, delicious. Now, if I can just convince him to mess around, I can get this stupid attraction out of my blood, and everything can go back to normal_.

* * *

"You are an arrogant, selfish moron!" Grimmjow rubbed his temple as the shout pierced through his aching head, glaring up at Ichigo, who had sent him to the ground moments before with a nasty hook punch.

"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it," he sneered back, levering himself to his feet. He could already feel a bruise forming on his temple, but it would heal before the day was over.

Ichigo crossed his arms over his chest. "Keep dreaming. Maybe if you'd asked first, but no… you couldn't be bothered." His fists clenched like he was considering hitting Grimmjow again, and the espada took a prudent step backwards. "Did you ever consider that I might not want you to kiss me?"

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed. He couldn't be sure, but it sounded like Ichigo would have been receptive to his advances if he had asked first. _Okay then, I'll try that next time_. The substitute shinigami hadn't drawn Zangetsu and sliced him into pieces, at least, so there was a chance. "Sorry?" he offered.

Ichigo rolled his eyes, letting his hands relax. "No, you're not," he muttered. "Goddamn arrogant espada." Grimmjow shrugged. _Can't really argue there_. He knew his own strengths and weaknesses, and arrogance – though he preferred to call it confidence – was certainly among them. Ichigo sighed. "Just don't do it again, okay?"

"Sure." _I'll ask first, anyway_. He didn't want to be turned into an espada fillet, after all.

"I guess that's good…" Ichigo began. Then he froze. A wave of gleeful reiatsu poured over them, making the hair on Grimmjow's spine rise. If he'd been in his resurrection form, his fur would have been standing on end – never a pleasant sensation under armor. In the human gigai, without Pantera or his powers, he felt as helpless as a newborn cub.

"Do you feel that?" he hissed, hand groping for a nonexistent sword. He knew there was no point in asking – Ichigo's expression told him the answer – but the words escaped him anyway.

Ichigo nodded. "Yep." He glanced around. "Your friend again?" He didn't sound worried, but his hand lingered near the pocket that held his substitute shinigami badge.

Grimmjow bared his teeth, fingers clenching and unclenching as though he could summon his claws just by wishing. "Probably."

Before he could say more, a voice cackled, "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"


	7. Two-Shot Takedown

**Author's Note:**

A note on timeline and power progression: this story occurs after Ichigo regains his powers, but before the whole mess with the Quincies. I've only watched the anime, so this story probably ignores or overwrites the manga-only part of the series; if it helps, think of this as a parallel universe. Regardless, since I can't figure out how powerful Ichigo became after getting his powers back, I'm assuming that he's still recovering somewhat, and isn't at 'I-can-squish-anything' levels of power. He's roughly comparable to a captain or a mid-level espada, which hopefully makes sense for the story. It's no fun if he can defeat his enemies with a single blow; it wouldn't be a good story if there wasn't actual conflict.

As always, major props to the reviewers of the last chapter: George, Kimikozumi, quixotomy, Alexzandria747, SoulMore, and scarletsaber. Thank you all for your support!

The title for this chapter comes from a LARP that I play, wherein basically everyone, no matter how powerful, can be taken out by two well-aimed alchemy packets. Insane numbers of hit points are meaningless when hit with Paralysis Poison, after all...

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Two-Shot Takedown**

Grimmjow heaved a sigh as the dulcet tones reached him. "Damn. She's back," he muttered, glancing up at the sky, where Arietta stood with her hands on her hips. "Didn't I tell you to get lost?" he snarled, and she pouted.

"You're no fun." She flicked her head, catching a glint of sunlight on her horn. "How's the shoulder doing?" Her tone was laden with glee and malice in equal measure.

Grimmjow froze. _What's she talking about? How did she know?_ "It's just fine, darling," he yelled cockily up to her. "How about you get your ass down here so we can talk?" For a moment, it looked like she would take the bait, and his grin widened. _Yeah, get down here, so I can smash that horn of yours like I promised. And then rip your limbs off and carve you into ribbons_. He could almost feel the warmth of her blood on his hands already. _I'll take my time with you, bitch_. Her death would be a welcome way to release the tension boiling inside him.

"Grimmjow, we're in public," Ichigo muttered out of the corner of his mouth, looking around warily. "The humans can see us. Don't make a scene." Though there weren't any students around at the moment, someone could walk by any minute. The school courtyard was a terrible place for a fight.

The former sexta rolled his eyes. "Let them stare. I don't give a fuck." Ichigo sighed heavily and slipped a hand into the pocket that held his substitute shinigami badge, clearly giving up the argument before it began. _Good. Stupid humans aren't going to prevent me from finishing this bitch off_.

Arietta snickered. "Listen to your keeper, darling. Don't want to make the humans think you're crazy and lock you up, do you?" She pirouetted slowly, fanning her wings. "After all, in your current condition, it's not like you could stop them." Smiling smugly, she folded her arms across her chest and waited for his response.

A low growl bubbled up in Grimmjow's chest, but Ichigo's hand on his forearm forestalled his initial hotheaded reaction. "You won't bait me that easily, _darling_ ," he called back, parroting her condescending style of address. "Come on, Kurosaki, let's go." With that, he deliberately spun on his heel and began to saunter away. Presenting his back like that was a risk, but he felt confident in his own reaction time. _She's only an arrancar; I was an espada. There's no way she could ever beat me_. Besides, Ichigo was still behind him. _Though why that should convince my instincts that I'm safe_ …

The air convulsed around him as Arietta shrieked with fury. "You bastard! Coward! Face me!" The sizzle of frying ozone was his only warning before a fiery cero streaked past him, scorching the air and leaving a blackened crater in the sidewalk.

Grimmjow cast a disdainful glance over his shoulder. "That the best you can do? A kit has better aim." He pivoted neatly out of the way of a second cero, which smashed into the path a few inches away from the first. Ichigo groaned as he eyed the damage, while Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's it? Come face me in a hundred years or so, when you're ready to play with the big boys."

Much to his surprise, a slow smile spread across her elfin face. "Fine. You want to dance? Let's dance." She spread her hands apart, revealing a crackling net of blue lightning stretched between them. "Let's see how you like this." Her smile broadened as tendrils of lightning licked outwards, reaching towards Grimmjow as though eager to taste his flesh.

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed. That attack was an order of magnitude stronger than her cero, and – if its little flickers were any gauge – substantially faster as well. _There's no way I can get out of the way of that thing, not in a power-limited gigai_. If he was honest with himself, it'd be hard to dodge even without that limitation – lightning-based techniques were vicious. _Damn it_.

He had just taken a deep breath, tensing his muscles in preparation for a futile leap sideways, when Ichigo stepped in front of him. "Alright, that's enough," the teen ordered, pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead. "This is a school, not a battlefield. If you want to fight, let's go somewhere else." He pulled his substitute shinigami badge from his pocket, letting it swing idly from a finger. "Or you could go away peacefully, and we could let this all go." His voice was calm, without inflection; he practically sounded bored. But his muscles were tense and his reiatsu thick with power – he wasn't as unruffled as he appeared.

Grimmjow couldn't blame him for that. There was something off about Arietta, something not quite right. _I don't remember her being so strong, for one thing_. And that lightning was definitely new. _But how'd she get more powerful? I ate a chunk of her wing… we can't evolve after that! Unless arrancar follow different rules_ … He frowned. _That would make sense_. He could vaguely recall Szayelaporro blathering on about some unique quirk of arrancar evolution, but he hadn't paid enough attention to remember any details.

Any hope he had of recalling it vanished when Arietta shrieked with laughter. "You don't scare me, shinigami," she managed between giggles. "We all heard that you lost your power defeating Aizen-sama. You don't smell any stronger than a pup now, and besides…" She spun in a circle, hugging herself like an overexcited child. "We have toys to deal with you." Tossing her head back, she fanned her wings wide. Sunlight sparkled in rainbow hues along their gossamer structure as she giggled, "Just like our little toys will take care of you, kitty cat!"

Grimmjow growled at her, showing his teeth in an unmistakable threat. "Try it, bitch!" She could use all the 'toys' she wanted; there still wasn't a way she could defeat him – injured shoulder, power limiter, and all.

Ichigo sighed, shifting his weight from one foot to another. Grimmjow expected him to take umbrage at Arietta's insults; the Ichigo he'd originally fought would have been furious. But the teen just rolled his eyes. "I have a test to take," he informed her coolly. "Either leave, or I'll make you leave." His hand clenched tightly around his badge, and Grimmjow could feel his spiritual pressure rising.

Arietta snorted. "You'll make me? Good one!" She flicked her hand in a negligent gesture, sending a branch of lightning lashing through the air. Ichigo flinched backwards, but refused to budge from his place in front of Grimmjow, hand outstretched in a futile gesture of warding.

Before he consciously registered the attack, Grimmjow's body leapt into action, snagging Ichigo around the waist and sending them both tumbling. The lightning cracked above their heads, scorching Grimmjow's unruly hair, as Ichigo grunted. "What the…"

Grimmjow didn't let him finish. "Are you an idiot? You can't take a blow like that in your mortal form! What the hell were you thinking?" He rolled off of the teen, doing his best to ignore his body's disappointment at the sudden loss of warmth. _Now is so not the time!_

Arietta giggled gleefully, sending another bolt of lightning to crash into the ground at his feet. "Dance, kitty, dance!" He belatedly jumped backwards, only to be sprayed with dirt as a third bolt rocketed into the grass behind him. Arietta wasn't trying to seriously injure him – she was clearly having too much fun toying with him – but his nerves sizzled with the awareness that she could easily kill him unless he could get out of his damn gigai. _Fuck this, fuck her, fuck this whole world, dammit!_ Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ichigo scrambling to his feet, yanking off his pack and rummaging around inside it while muttering curses, but he couldn't spare the teen any attention. A fourth spear seared across his uninjured shoulder, leaving a bloody gash, and he winced. She cackled.

"Enough, Arietta." Two more arrancar materialized out of nowhere. The larger, a hulking bear-like humanoid who Grimmjow thought was named Marrok, laid a hand on Arietta's shoulder. "Don't play with your food." He transferred his gaze to Ichigo and sighed. "Shinigami, we have no quarrel with you, only with the former espada at your side. Leave now, and we will all go back to Hueco Mundo, leaving this world alone."

Ichigo set his backpack down and glared up at the arrancar, propping his hands on his hips. "And what if Grimmjow doesn't want to go with you?" he challenged.

Grimmjow groaned. _Kurosaki, what do you think you're doing?_ The teen was still in his human form, though his fingers were white-knuckled around his badge. _Why haven't you taken your shinigami form yet?_ Grimmjow's skin itched to be free of his gigai, but he couldn't afford the moment of vulnerability as he struggled free. If he had possessed soul candy, it would have been much safer, since the candy ejected his spirit instantaneously. But Urahara hadn't given him any. So leaving the artificial body felt like wading through thick, chest-high mud – doable, but time-consuming.

However, Ichigo's badge acted just like soul candy. He could leave his body in the blink of an eye and be immediately capable of combat. _Dammit, Ichigo, get in your real body already!_ Grimmjow sneered. _Or has a year of peace made you soft?_ It galled him to be reliant on the substitute shinigami for protection, but there was no way around it. _I just need a few seconds, dammit!_

Marrok's companion hissed with laughter, forked tongue flickering over his thin lips. "Since when do shinigami care about espada scum?" If Grimmjow's memory was right, he went by the name of Kinderras.

Before either Ichigo or Grimmjow could answer, Arietta giggled, "The kitty's his pet, can't you tell? Little Grimm-kitty's been declawed." She smirked at Grimmjow, daring him to respond.

"Come down here, bitch, and see just how sharp my claws are," he snarled back, sliding his feet into a more balanced stance. It was a stupid taunt, and he knew it; he couldn't take her on in a gigai. _But I'm no one's pet, and I'll kill anyone who suggests differently!_ He cast a sidelong glance at Ichigo, who stood with his feet braced apart and a frustrated look on his face. His eyes darted from side to side, continuously scanning the windows of the school buildings on either side of them, though they always returned to the trio of arrancar above them. Grimmjow could hear him muttering something about civilians and collateral damage under his breath.

Arietta's mouth stretched in a humorless grin, revealing her rows of jagged teeth. "Any time, kitty cat!" Folding her wings, she dove towards Grimmjow with hands outstretched and lighting dancing between them.

A blow from Kinderras sent her flying. "Idiot! We need him alive!" Arietta gave him a sulky look as she pulled herself upright, blood dripping down her face from where his claws had raked across her forehead. "What were you thinking?" he snapped. She opened her mouth to answer, and he glared at her. "Don't bother. You weren't." He rolled his eyes. "Just like last night. I don't know why I bothered recruiting you."

"Maybe because I'm the only one who can neutralize him?" she snapped back, tossing her head like a testy horse. "Besides, I got valuable information last night, remember?"

"You could have gotten that information without revealing our presence," Marrok rumbled.

Arietta turned her glare on him. "Oh yeah? I needed to see his cero, moron. How else was I supposed to tell if the drug worked or not?" She soared over to stand on the air in front of him, getting into his face as she continued to berate him. He snarled a low response, but she ran right over him.

"Alright, what's going on?" Ichigo muttered in an undertone, a bewildered frown creasing his brow. "Who are these guys, anyway?"

"The one who looks like a grizzly bear is named Marrok; the snake is called Kinderras," Grimmjow told him, taking a step closer. "You already know Arietta. But I've got no clue what they're planning." He glared up at the trio, now arguing loudly with each other in total disregard for the pair below them. Their dismissal rankled, but he had to admit it was a good tactic. _Pretend that we're not a threat at all, and hope we get mad enough to attack when their backs are turned. Bet you anything they've got a nasty surprise or two waiting for us if we take the bait_.

Ichigo frowned. "The snake, Kinderras… he said they need you alive. What's that about?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Who know, who cares. Can we kill them now?" He needed to feel the wind on his face and the spatter of blood on his skin; he felt like he was going to explode if he didn't find an outlet for the pent-up energy clawing at the inside of his skin.

Ichigo hesitated, gripping his badge so tightly that his forearm shook. "You don't have soul candy with you, and I don't have Kon. We can't just leave our bodies lying around in the school courtyard; it would terrify some poor civilian." He grimaced, and added, "And then Hat-and-Clogs would make me scrub toilets for a month to pay for the memory modifications." Then he shook his head. "More importantly, there are hundreds of students a dozen yards away… There's no way to guarantee their safety if we start a battle here." His tone was laden with frustration and bitterness, tinged with regret.

Grimmjow studied his hard, closed face briefly, unsettled by the black flickers of self-loathing threaded through Ichigo's reiatsu. "Did something…" he started softly. Ichigo's scowl darkened, and he quickly shut his mouth. _Okay, not a good question to ask_. He bumped Ichigo's shoulder with his own, then gestured up at the trio. "So what do we do?"

Ichigo squared his shoulders. "What we have to."

* * *

Even as he pressed his badge to his chest, he knew it was a bad idea. He'd never been great at assessing the power level of his opponents, but these three didn't feel as strong as, say, Ulquiorra or Byakuya. If he had to guess, they were probably closer to Renji's level. _So why do they act like they can handle us without breaking a sweat?_ He scowled. _If only we weren't in the middle of school_ … He didn't want to take the chance that one of them had some sort of surprise attack that could take out buildings or otherwise endanger innocent noncombatants. _Just like last time_ …

It was far too late to do anything about that now, though. As his body crumpled behind him, he launched himself towards the querulous trio, drawing Zangetsu as he soared upwards. Behind him, Grimmjow struggled out of his gigai, rubbing surreptitiously as his shoulder as he emerged. Ichigo grimaced. Grimmjow had been doing his best to hide it, but he'd caught the espada prodding at his wounded shoulder with a pained expression when he thought no one was looking.

Now that the espada was back in his normal form, the extent of the damage was obvious. The white bandages around the puncture had turned a dull rust color, with ominous streaks of muddy green mixed in. The skin of that arm was pasty white, and Ichigo could see pale green threads creeping out from under the bandages. _Shit_. The injury should have been mostly healed by now, but it looked like it was getting worse. Even the mostly-healed gut wound bore the unhealthy reddish tinge of inflammation, though his smaller injuries had healed properly. _What the hell?_ Did this have anything to do with the drug Arietta had mentioned?

More worryingly, the blade protruding from the hilt strapped to his side was still short and jagged. Pantera hadn't regenerated at all, as far as Ichigo could tell, which made no sense. Grimmjow's spiritual pressure was certainly recovering; his zanpakuto should regrow at the same rate. _Dammit, what's going on here?_

If anyone could answer that question, it'd be the three arrancar, who paused their bickering as Ichigo arrowed towards them. As he came to a halt a few yards away from them, Arietta licked a smear of blood off the back of her hand and cocked her head to one side. "What do you want, shinigami? Come to get your ass kicked?"

Marrok laid a heavy paw on her shoulder, tugging her backwards. She shrugged his hand off, but obediently retreated, while he offered Ichigo a placid smile. "As I said before, we have no desire to fight you. We would be happy to leave peacefully, so long as you surrender the former espada to us."

Grimmjow skidded to a halt next to Ichigo in time to hear Marrok's last words. "Go fuck yourself," he snarled, flexing his fingers. "Kurosaki can't tell me to do shit." He flung out his hands, wincing almost imperceptibly as the motion tugged at his injuries. "You want me? Come and get me." His feral grin promised them a world of pain if they tried.

Ichigo threw him a quelling glance and took a step forward. "Look. I don't know what you want with Grimmjow, and I don't care. Go back to Hueco Mundo where you belong." His muscles were taut with tension as he leveled Zangetsu at them, infusing the blade with superheated reiatsu. _Dammit, just go away_ …

His hollow snickered. _Just slaughter them all, imbecile. The only good enemy is a dead one_.

Ichigo's hands clenched convulsively around Zangetsu's hilt. _And if they wreck half the school in the ensuing fight? What then?_

A year and a half ago, he wouldn't have worried about that, confident in his ability to protect those around him against run-of-the-mill hollows. But then he'd lost his powers, gained Fullbring, lost that, and regained an approximation of his original abilities. With his confidence badly battered, he'd thrown himself back into training, striving to master every nuance of his new blend of powers. The transfer had been far from seamless, but he had thought that he was close to figuring it all out.

Then a former privaron espada had shown up.

Ichigo hadn't known that she had once been the segundo espada when he went to confront her – he had assumed that she was an ordinary arrancar. He had quickly learned his mistake. Her first attack had blasted through his defenses like they weren't even there, sending him crashing to the dirt before he could blink.

Her second had dropped a building on top of him.

If not for Renji's and Rukia's timely appearance, he might have died there, crushed under a load of cracked bricks and iron support beams. He could have handled that; he'd been on the brink of death more times than he could count at that point. But he'd always been the one who would have paid the price of failure.

That time had been different. When the dust had cleared, they had found a pair of homeless kids amidst the rubble. The young boy had already died by the time they dug him out; his sister had survived just long enough to crawl over to his limp body before she, too, collapsed. She couldn't have been more than twelve.

Ichigo shook his head angrily, dashing away the memories. _I won't let that happen again. I won't!_

His hollow wisely stayed silent.

Kinderras, on the other hand, was oblivious to Ichigo's descent into memory. Coiling his tail underneath him, he hissed, "Who do you think you are to order us around, shinigami?" Fangs flipped down from the roof of his mouth as he drew his sword, pointing it directly at Ichigo's heart.

Marrok stifled a sigh and spread his hands in a gesture of peace. "This is a conflict between hollows, and of no interest to shinigami. I promise you, we will not harm you or yours if you retreat now. Let us handle this on our own," he urged.

"I can't do that," Ichigo replied steadily.

"I don't need your protection, Kurosaki," Grimmjow spat, while his hollow grumbled something about him being an idealistic, arrogant moron with a hero complex. Ichigo ignored them both.

The ursine arrancar slowly nodded his ponderous, bone-plated head. "Understood. But tell me, why is a shinigami protecting a former espada?" He paused, then added in a tone faintly flavored with irony, "Especially one who used to be your sworn mortal enemy?"

 _Good question, King_ , Ichigo's hollow snickered. _Didn't you tell me you weren't interested in him? Or did you change your mind after that kiss? He's pretty damn hot, after all_.

Ichigo gritted his teeth. _Shut up. That's got nothing to do with this_. More to the point, it wasn't something that he wanted to be distracted thinking about while facing three arrancar of indeterminate power. Nor was it an answer he wanted to give to Marrok. Instead, he shrugged, and explained, "I promised to give him shelter while in the living world, and I don't break my promises."

"You make me sound like a fucking damsel in distress," Grimmjow grumbled. He shoved Ichigo aside and took a step towards Marrok, jabbing his finger into the larger arrancar's chest. "You want me alive, huh? Do your worst." He spread his hands, lips peeling back to reveal gleaming white teeth. "Leave the kid out of it."

"Fine with me," Kinderras laughed. He surged forwards, eyes taking on a hellish crimson gleam, as he yanked a pair of sai from the sash around his waist. "Get him!"

The other two arrancar leapt into motion. Arietta unsheathed a curved scimitar whose blade dripped dark blue ichor, while Marrok unwound a long, spiked chain from his waist. As he set it spinning in a gleaming circle, Ichigo snarled, "Big mistake." His eyes narrowed as he watched the chain for a fraction of a millisecond before darting in, blade arcing upwards to catch the chain as it swung down. Marrok grunted as the chain wrapped around Zangetsu, tangling itself around the zanpakuto and coming to a halt thoroughly fouled.

 _King, you idiot!_ Ichigo's hollow yelped, blasting him with a feeling of fury. _Think before you act, moron!_

Ichigo didn't have to wait long to figure out what his hollow meant. With a low growl of effort, Marrok whirled like a discus thrower and hurled Ichigo over his head, blade first. Ichigo stifled a yelp as he somersaulted through the air, catching a glimpse of Grimmjow sparring barehanded against Kinderras from a dizzying, upside-down vantage point before the chain yanked taut. "Apologies," Marrok grunted, before launching a cero at point blank range.

 _Shit!_ Ichigo writhed out of the way, wincing as the blast singed his hair as it flew by. Before the arrancar could throw another, he ripped Zangetsu free of the chain and lunged forwards. Marrok blocked the first blow with a length of chain stretched between his hands, but Ichigo had been expecting that. Swiftly pulling back the blade, he planted a foot on thin air and came down with a sweeping overhead cut aimed at the arrancar's shoulder.

Enhanced by his furious reiatsu, the blade should have slid through meat and bone with ease. Instead, it slammed into Marrok's bone-plated shoulder and stopped dead. The arrancar's lips twitched as he twisted into the blow, forcing Zangetsu backwards with his chain as he drove his elbow into the side of Ichigo's head.

Something crunched; Ichigo could feel blood dripping from his nose. He reeled backwards, blinking in momentary shock, and bared his teeth. "Fine. Ban-"

Arietta's lightning bolt struck him in the back.

The electricity sent shock waves through his body. His heart stuttered, skipped a beat, and resumed pounding at a hundred miles an hour, while his muscles convulsed. Fingers twitched as he fought to maintain his hold on Zangetsu; his lungs ached as he dragged a breath past unresponsive pectorals. _Damn it!_

Grimmjow glanced over and spotted his momentary paralysis. Roaring a challenge, he arrowed straight towards Arietta, who simpered and darted forward on silent wings. Marrok stepped in between her and Grimmjow, releasing the chain from one hand as he started it spinning in a figure eight pattern. Grimmjow snarled, lashing out with a quick cero blast as he tried to dodge around the hulking arrancar. Hot, livid reiatsu boiled from him, which increased to a fever pitch as Marrok wrapped his chain around Grimmjow's ankle, hauling him backwards. Grimmjow didn't bother to look around; all of his attention remained focused on Arietta.

That cost him. Ichigo flinched as the ursine arrancar drove his fist into Grimmjow's liver. _Damn it, Grimmjow, pay attention!_

He should have taken his own advice. Distracted by Grimmjow's battle with Marrok, he didn't notice the whisper of approaching wings until Arietta slashed her scimitar across his ribs.

The glancing blow bit into his side, stinging like fire as Ichigo belated dodged out of the way. Grimmjow's reiatsu abruptly assumed a panicked tinge. Ichigo had only a moment to wonder why before every muscle in his body locked up. _King!_ his hollow yelped, flooding his bloodstream with adrenaline as he tumbled helplessly out of the sky.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!_ What the hell had been on her blade? No normal poison should work that fast. Stars swam in front of his vision as his paralyzed lungs refused to inhale; the ground was approaching at an alarming rate.

A blur of blue. Yards above the ground, Ichigo slammed into Grimmjow's chest as the former espada flashed into the path of his fall. "Ichigo!" A bewildering mixture of emotions swam through his reiatsu as he landed lightly on the grass, staring at Ichigo's face with an expression suspiciously close to worry.

"Hey! Kitty!" Grimmjow hastily set Ichigo on the grass and whirled to find Arietta hovering less than a foot away from him. "Say goodbye!" Laughing maniacally, she hurled a cloud of sparkling dust into his face. Grimmjow batted it away contemptuously, mouth open to sneer something insulting, but he froze as soon as he touched the dust. His skin blanched to a pasty white, and he doubled over, coughing as though his lungs were about to burst from his chest.

"Alright, that's enough." The cold, hard voice from above startled them all. A crackling blue-white arrow followed it, streaking through the air and piercing Arietta's wing as she flinched aside. She shrieked in pain, backpedaling, as Uryu snapped, "The next one will be through your heart. Leave, now."

Grimmjow hacked a wheezing laugh. "Just… kill her." As she lunged for him with a wild swing of her scimitar, he let his weight fall forward onto his hands and lashed out with a head-level hook kick.

Arietta dodged, hissed in fury, and sonidoed back to her companions. "This isn't over, kitty. You owe me, and I'll hunt you to the ends of the earth if I have to!" Glancing at Kinderras, she snapped, "Let's go." As they vanished into sonido, she stuck her tongue out at Grimmjow.

"Bitch," the former espada slurred, swaying on his feet. "I'll…" His sentence cut off as he fell to one knee.

All at once, the paralysis engulfing Ichigo's muscles vanished. He stumbled forward, cursing under his breath as Grimmjow blinked muzzily. "Grimmjow? Are you okay?" His coughing had stopped, but his skin was now a dull grey.

"I'm fine, just f-" The last word trailed off as Grimmjow gently keeled over onto his side, unconscious.

"Idiot," Ichigo muttered, dropping to his knees next to the espada's limp form. "Why'd you turn your back on her, huh?" _Why'd you catch me?_

Uryu leapt down from the rooftop and nodded to Ichigo, letting his bow dissolve back into reishi. "So. I take it this is the potential trouble you warned us about?"

* * *

Hours later, after the whole mess had been cleaned up, Ichigo sat at his desk, staring morosely at the limp form of the former sexta espada lying on his bed. With Uryu's help, he'd managed to get Grimmjow back in his gigai before any other students emerged from their club meetings, but the espada hadn't woken up. A frantic call to Urahara had brought the former captain to his school, where he had assured Ichigo that Grimmjow would wake in due time. In the meantime, he should keep the espada warm and comfortable. Ichigo had tried to get a clearer answer out of the enigmatic scientist, but Urahara had refused to give him any more information.

 _At least he helped me get Grimmjow home without anyone noticing; I couldn't have done it on my own_. Manhandling an unconscious body through the streets of Karakura Town was bound to draw unwanted attention. But Urahara had produced a strange device shaped like an hourglass from one of his innumerable pockets, and passerby has stared right through them. It had been like they were in spirit form.

Unfortunately, in all the confusion, Ichigo had completely forgotten about his math test. He'd sent a pleading email to Fujimoto-sensei, asking if he could finish the test after the weekend; she hadn't replied yet. _Yet another thing to stress out about_.

The worry about the test was distant, though, compared to the anxiety he felt over Grimmjow's prolonged unconsciousness. Dinner had come and gone, and the espada still hadn't woken up. If he were human, Ichigo would have said that he was in a coma, and needed to be placed on life support immediately. But arrancar didn't exactly need food or water, and only needed to breathe if they wanted to talk, as far as Ichigo knew. So his current state of unconsciousness wasn't necessarily as dangerous for him.

He wasn't exactly unconscious, either. It was more like a very deep hibernation. Every so often, he would twitch or grumble something low in his throat, but he remained totally unresponsive to outside stimuli. Furthermore, his reiatsu remained at dangerously low levels, though his skin tone had gradually returned to normal.

Ichigo brushed a soft lock of electric blue hair out of the espada's face and sighed. "You really are an idiot, you know?" Grimmjow didn't even stir at the quiet words, and Ichigo went on, "Why'd you act so recklessly? You knew how dangerous Arietta could be – why'd you turn your back on her?"

Only silence answered him. Gnawing on his lip, he flipped to the next page of his chemistry textbook, but the words blurred on the page. The scenario seemed eerily similar; they'd been in the exact same positions only two nights ago. _And yet tonight feels completely different_. Two nights ago, he hadn't cared much if the espada lived or died, so long as he did so without causing too much trouble. Now, the thought of Grimmjow dying made a sharp pain shoot through his heart.

 _He's not going to die_ , his hollow muttered irritably. It had remained mostly silent throughout the evening, but as the night wore on, it had grown increasingly exasperated with his 'maudlin, pointless worrying.'

 _I know that_ , Ichigo snapped back. Urahara had assured him of that much. _You don't need to keep repeating it_. At least the current comments were better than the salacious images that his hollow had been sending him earlier. _I really don't need a visual of what Grimmjow might look like naked, thank you very much_.

Admittedly, such thoughts had crossed his mind, especially after Grimmjow had kissed him, but he had hurriedly erased them. Attraction to the man who had once sworn to kill him? The very though was insane. His shinigami friends would murder him if he ever admitted to it, much less acted on it; his human friends would probably do the same. _Shinigami and hollows are natural enemies – there's no way anything would have a snowball's chance in hell of working_.

 _You do remember that you're half hollow, right?_ his hollow grumbled. _And Grimmjow's half shinigami. Not that far apart really_.

It was an easy argument to believe when looking at him now, with all evidence of his arrancar nature hidden within the gigai. He could have been just another shinigami visiting the living world, using Ichigo's room as a crash pad like they always did, if not for the elaborate tattoo on his shoulder.

Setting his chemistry textbook aside, Ichigo reached out a hand to tentatively trace that tattoo. It was a work of art that matched Grimmjow's personality perfectly, all jagged spikes and sinuous lines that somehow melded together into a graceful whole. The stark blackness of the ink contrasted beautifully with the arrancar's tan skin. But its beauty was an unsubtle reminder about Grimmjow's reasons for remaining in the world of the living. _If not for this and Pantera, would he still be here?_

The answer was obvious. As soon as Grimmjow regained his full powers, he'd disappear back into the sands of Hueco Mundo, and Ichigo would probably never see him again. _That, if nothing else, is a reason to avoid getting too attached_.

Not that Ichigo thought that there was a good chance of that. _It's Grimmjow, after all_. The espada was loud, obnoxious, crude, arrogant…

 _Sexy, powerful, unexpectedly kind, incredibly hot_ … his hollow added. _Come on, admit it. You want him_. The hollow snickered. _And he clearly wants you, too_.

Ichigo heaved a sigh, perching on the edge of his bed and staring moodily at Grimmjow. _I don't know what he wants… that's the problem_. Ichigo had no desire to become a pawn in whatever strange game the espada might be playing. _For all I know, he's trying to get close to me so he can slip a blade in my back when I'm not looking_. He bit his lip. Grimmjow didn't seem like the kind of person to betray someone in that fashion, but then Kugo Ginjo had appeared to be trustworthy as well. _And look how well that turned out_. Sometimes it felt like he couldn't believe anyone – even his father and Urahara lied to him when they thought it necessary. He didn't want to think that Grimmjow was planning on betraying him, but he didn't wholly trust his instincts anymore. _I just don't know who to trust at this point_.

A strangled cough distracted him from his melancholy musings. Ichigo glanced over to see Grimmjow's lips pull back over his teeth, revealing sharp canines as the espada wheezed. It sounded like he was trying to cough up a hairball. Ichigo narrowed his eyes. That didn't sound healthy, and he didn't like the way Grimmjow's hands had stiffened into claws. "Grimmjow?" he asked quietly.

Another hacking cough answered him. Grimmjow's spine arched backwards and his hands clenched into fists, clutching Ichigo's bedspread between his fingers. Ichigo reached out to lay a hand on Grimmjow's forehead, and flinched. The espada was burning up. _Dammit, what am I supposed to do?_ None of his first aid training had prepared him for something like this.

As another cough issued from Grimmjow's throat, the espada began shaking. First his hands, then his arms, then his entire body erupted in convulsions. If he'd been human, Ichigo would have thought that he was experiencing a grand mal seizure. _What the hell did that powder do to him?_

Grimmjow's shaking quickly grew worse, and his movements became more erratic. One foot connected solidly with Ichigo's desk, leaving a dent, and he winced. _That had to hurt_. Gigais were more durable than mortal bodies, but they weren't as invincible as spirit forms. Already Grimmjow's foot bore rapidly darkening bruises from its impact.

Despite the advice shown in movies, doctors didn't recommend restraining a person during a seizure. But, as Grimmjow slammed his hand into the wall with a crunch, Ichigo chose to ignore that. Flipping Grimmjow onto his side, he grabbed both of the espada's wrists and pinned them above his head. Grimmjow struggled violently against the restraints, low snarls bubbling from his lips in between harsh coughs, but Ichigo kept the pressure up. There wasn't much he could do to prevent the espada from kicking, but he did his best to keep his body between Grimmjow and any solid objects.

It felt like an eternity before Grimmjow's frenetic movements slowed, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Ichigo shook sweat-drenched hair out of his face and slowly loosened his grip, ruefully eying the red finger marks that he'd left behind. "Grimmjow? You awake?"

When the espada didn't answer, Ichigo sighed and gently rearranged him on the bed. "You'd better wake up soon," he muttered. "Or I'm calling Urahara again and letting him dose you with some vile tonic." Grabbing a tissue, he wiped saliva away from Grimmjow's chin, silently hoping that the espada wasn't about to throw up. "You'd deserve it, too, for making me worry." He rolled his eyes. "I swear, when you wake up, I'm going to kick some sense into you."

Slowly Grimmjow's azure eyes pried open. "Kinky, Kurosaki… Didn't you say you're supposed to ask first?"


	8. Perfect Storm

**Author's Note:**

This Sunday, a gunman marched into Pulse, a popular gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida, and opened fire. Forty-nine dead, fifty-three wounded. All because the gunman was offended by seeing two guys kissing. Last week, Brock Turner, a Stanford student convicted of three counts of felony sexual assault, was given only six months of jail time because longer "might have a serious impact" on his life. His father said that it wasn't fair that "twenty minutes of action" should determine the rest of his life. Tragedy piles on top of tragedy, and my heart is breaking.

These events have sent shockwaves through the queer community, and none of us know what to do. There really aren't any words to describe the mixture of sorrow, rage, and loss that we're feeling. When I see the text messages from one of the Pulse victims or reread the letter from the unnamed girl in the Stanford case, I want to cry; the whole community feels like it's balanced on a knife edge between fury and sadness. We want to do something, but it feels like there's nothing to be done that will change anything. Many of us are numb, for if we let the storm in, it'll consume us. I've channeled those feelings into my writing, so I apologize that this chapter is darker than usual. I hope you all still enjoy it.

This chapter is dedicated to the victims of the Pulse shooting and the unnamed victim in the Stanford case.

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Perfect Storm  
**

Silence.

Darkness.

Coarse sand under his paws; moonlight caressing his skin.

The scent of death hanging in the still air.

All around him, hollows dozed, sated by their most recent meal. A few bloodstains still lingered around their muzzles, but the desert had already absorbed the few drops that had spilled. Gleaming white bones, stripped of flesh, glistened under the sliver of crescent moon hanging low in the sky. They had fed well that hunt.

Grimmjow prowled along the top of the sand dune, tail flicking idly behind him as he paced. Powerful muscles bunched and stretched, moving like a well-oiled machine under his armor. Ready to pounce on any enemy that drew near.

Not that he feared any denizens of the desert. His pack was strong, and roamed where they choose, unopposed by lesser hollows. Almost no one would attempt to challenge a group of adjuchas, and the bones of the few who dared were left as silent monuments to their folly. Their hunts were becoming laughably easy as they grew stronger, prowling across the desert in search of yet more powerful hollows to devour.

And that was how it should be. Grimmjow stretched his forelegs in front of him, arching his spine as he dug his front claws into the sand. _I am a King, and soon everyone will bow down to me_.

Finishing his stretch, he curled his paws underneath him and settled down into the sand. It shifted to accommodate his body, still slightly warm from the recent explosions of reiatsu, and he purred. The air tasted of blood and charred flesh, mingled with the distinctive redolence of furious, terrified spirit energy – signs of a successful hunt. It wouldn't be long before he could teach his cubs to savor the delicious blend of flavors; they were almost old enough to leave the den.

The thought made him purr harder. He would enjoy the chance to bring them on their first hunt, and he knew his mate would as well. She was growing tired of the perpetual confinement in the den. Unfortunately, it was necessary for one parent to remain with the cubs until they were old enough to protect themselves – hollow cubs were tasty treats for older menos. If any hollow dared to lay a claw on his cubs, Grimmjow would tear them to shreds, but that wouldn't bring the cubs back. So his mate watched over them while he hunted with his pack, keeping the area around the den free of danger while bringing the best kills back to his family.

Soon, though, they'd be able to join the pack for their first hunt. Grimmjow already had the perfect target picked out – an older hollow, not menos-class, who was beginning to lose his strength. If he proved too strong, Grimmjow or his mate could step in, but Grimmjow was confident that his litter of three would be able to take the hollow down. It would be a good introduction to the vicious world of Hueco Mundo, where only the strong survived.

Still thinking of his cubs, Grimmjow expanded his pesquisa, scanning the desert for any foreign spiritual pressures. His pack resonated strongly in his mind, but he pushed his awareness of them away. Brushing against the sleeping minds of his mate and litter, he smiled; they felt happy and healthy, snug in their hidden den. He lingered there for a moment, purr rumbling through his chest, before moving on.

As expected, the sands for miles around were deserted. He let his eyes slide shut, though he kept his pesquisa extended – if anything came near, he would have ample warning. But Hueco Mundo was unusually quiet tonight; surely it was safe to take a short–

 _Hide!_

Grimmjow bolted upright, claws fully extended as he leapt to his feet. The wordless reiatsu blast, laden with terror and a desperate command to hide, thrummed through his body. The signature was unmistakable – his mate was in trouble.

As his pack roused, he sent an answering blast of reiatsu at the sky. _Hold on, I'm coming!_ Azure light exploded around him as he raced for the den, moving faster in sonido than he'd ever moved before.

Shadows raced alongside him as he sprinted through the darkness. Dunes flickered by underneath his paws, vanishing almost before he pushed off of them, but the remaining distance stretched out to infinity in front of him. Each leap that should have taken him closer to his family only revealed another row of dunes. _No!_

Another terrified blast of emerald reiatsu split the air. Fear and anguish mingled in equal measure as his mate ordered their cubs to run for their lives. Desperation lay underneath the fear – the enemy must have found the den. Grimmjow extended his stride.

A third reiatsu blast shook the air, and his heart stuttered to a stop. His body kept leaping from dune to dune as his mind shrieked in horror, unwilling to accept the weary resignation that had accompanied the agony in that final explosion. Was it his imagination, or could he smell the blood-scent on the air?

 _No, dammit, no!_ An inarticulate howl of rage burst from his throat as he poured every drop of reiatsu he possessed into moving just a hair faster. _No!_

Had he not had his pesquisa fully active, he wouldn't have felt the fainter reiatsu explosions that followed.

Scianna.

Elkan.

Kior.

All dead.

Crimson haze descended over his vision, propelling him forward as his mind buried his despair in a desperate thirst for the blood of the monster who had murdered his family. No time for thought, just action. If he paused for even a second, black despair would swallow him whole, so he didn't pause.

He burst out of the dunes onto a scene of carnage. Crimson blood splattered everywhere, near-black in the moonlight. His mate's body lay eviscerated in front of the den, flesh caught in her claws – she had gone down fighting. Her entrails spilled out of her abdomen like obscene snakes, glistening in the dim light.

Behind her lay the kits.

Scianna, feline body torn nearly in half, still whimpered feebly as she scrabbled against the sand. As Grimmjow skidded to a halt, appalled by the amount of blood covering her tiny body, she sighed one last time and fell still.

She had been the oldest of the litter, always eager to explore the world. Time and time again, Grimmjow had caught her trying to escape the den, heedless of the danger of the desert outside. She would always apologize when he dragged her back inside, giving him a sweetly pleading look with her big blue eyes, and he could never punish her the way he should have.

Now, those big blue eyes stared glassily at nothing.

Elkan and Kior lay tangled together, so thoroughly splashed with gore that he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Elkan had been the sensible one, always listening to his parents, while Kior had followed Scianna into all sorts of trouble.

Grimmjow's throat tightened. How could this happen? How had he failed so badly? His world had narrowed to the bloodstained sands and limp bodies strewn about like rag dolls in a macabre parody of life. Traces of their reiatsu still lingered about their bodies. Grimmjow snarled brokenly. Sorrow battled with rage as he swayed back and forth, gazing blindly at the carnage that had ripped his world apart.

Someone was screaming.

It took him a while to realize that it was him.

Blink.

Aizen was there, hands spread wide as he gave Grimmjow the same insufferable smile that the feline hollow had always hated. He looked like he was wearing gloves until he extended his hand and Grimmjow realized that it was plastered with a smooth coating of blood.

Blink.

That bloodstained hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing until darkness swam in front of his eyes. He let it. What was there to live for now that his family was dead? It was his fault, all his fault.

Despair sapped the strength from his limbs, leaving him numb as the fingers clenched tighter and tighter.

Blink.

Fiery agony surged up and down his limbs, melting them and reshaping them as though he was a figurine in the hands of a mad sculptor. Unbearable pain seared through his nerve endings, making him scream and scream and scream.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

Darkness again. This time, darkness was accompanied by softness underneath him and an irritated voice in his ears. His nerves still hummed with remembered agony, but the pain had receded to a dull ache, localized in his shoulder and abdomen. All in all, far preferable.

The voice was speaking again. Grimmjow did his best to focus on it – it was saying something about making someone worry. _I know that voice_.

With recognition, memory flooded back, and Grimmjow groaned silently. _Dammit, I really fucked up this time, didn't I?_ He shivered. For a moment, he'd truly thought that he was back in Hueco Mundo, running under a crescent moon with his pack. But no. They, like everyone else he'd known in the desert, were dead. Sorrow swept over him once again, clogging his throat and leaving him unable to speak. He fought to push it away, but the expertise derived from long years of practice seemed to have deserted him.

Then Ichigo muttered, "I swear, when you wake up, I'm going to kick some sense into you."

His eyelids felt like they had been weighted down with boulders, but he dragged them open anyway – that was too good of a line to ignore. "Kinky, Kurosaki… Didn't you say you're supposed to ask first?"

* * *

Ichigo blinked. Then blinked again. "You… you…" he managed, unable to come up with anything coherent to say. Grimmjow's weakly teasing expression didn't change. "Gaaahhh!"

Grimmjow snorted. "What's up, Kurosaki? You look like you've seen a ghost." His voice was regaining strength by the minute, though his skin was still an unhealthy pasty gray.

"If you didn't look like crap, I'd punch you right now," Ichigo muttered. "You wake up and the first thing you say is a joke?" He'd clearly been worrying over nothing, if that was how the espada responded to seizures.

Grimmjow's eyelids drooped, and he gave Ichigo a pale imitation of his normal playful grin. "Well, what would you want me to say?"

Ichigo took a closer look at him, furrowing his brow. The dead-fish color of his skin did nothing to conceal the dark shadows under his eyes, but that was expected. The darkness lurking within those eyes, on the other hand, was not. And, though his tone was a good approximation of his usual mocking self, it was a few shades off. Hints of wild, unidentifiable emotions flavored his reiatsu, as well. Ichigo frowned. "You alright?" he asked softly, laying a hand on the espada's shoulder.

Grimmjow's eyes slid closed for a moment. When he reopened them, he plastered an obviously false smile on his lips, and purred, "Never better, darling."

 _King, if you believe him, you're as dumb as you look_ , Ichigo's hollow snorted.

For once, Ichigo was inclined to agree with the creature, which was the only reason he didn't snap at Grimmjow for calling him darling. Instead, keeping his hand where it was, he asked again, "You sure? You don't look so good."

Grimmjow shrugged awkwardly, hissing as the movement pulled at his shoulder wound. "This damn shoulder is a bitch and a half, but other than that…" He trailed off, lifting his uninjured shoulder in a noncommittal gesture.

Ichigo threw up his hands in disgust. "Is it seriously that hard to admit something's wrong?"

 _Pot calling the kettle black much?_ his hollow snickered. _You're not so good at that either, hotshot. When was the last time you voluntarily asked for help with anything?_

Since Ichigo had no good response for that, he ignored it. His hollow laughed at him, while Grimmjow scowled. "Hey, I'm admitting that my shoulder hurts, aren't I?"

"Grimmjow…" Ichigo sighed, unsure why he was pressing the point but determined to help the former sexta. "You sure that's it?" The uneasy touches of sorrow in his reiatsu, touched with smoky desperation, hinted at much deeper, albeit invisible, wounds.

Grimmjow sighed and shuffled around on the mattress so his head rested against Ichigo's leg. Unlike his previous touches, the gesture held no hint of flirtation or sexual desire. "It's…" he began, shoulders hunched. Then he paused and exhaled heavily. "It was a long time ago," he muttered. "It's nothing."

Ichigo bit his lip and tentatively reached down to run his fingers through Grimmjow's hair in a silent attempt to offer comfort. A low rumbling noise started to emanate from the espada's chest, startling Ichigo into a laugh. "Are you… purring?"

"Shut up, Kurosaki," Grimmjow grumbled, but he didn't pull away.

The corners of Ichigo's mouth twitched, and he kept petting the feline espada. He'd never been good with emotions, but he hated to see friends in pain, and somehow Grimmjow had evolved from being a mortal enemy to something approximating a friend. Ichigo wasn't sure how that had happened, though the battle that afternoon must have had something to do with it. He shrugged. _I guess there have been weirder friendships, though this is pretty damn weird_. To his surprise, that didn't bother him at all.

Grimmjow's unusual silence, on the other hand, bothered him quite a bit. "Let's call Orihime tomorrow and get you healed," he suggested. The physical injuries were only part of the issue, but they, at least, were easy to fix.

Grimmjow opened one eye to stare at him, then shrugged. "Sure, if you think she'd be okay with it. She didn't seem too happy to see me, but she didn't freak out either."

Ichigo smiled ruefully. "Yeah, I think I was worried for nothing. She's a pretty remarkable girl." _And maybe she'll be able to figure out what's really bothering you_. Her intuition about people was uncanny.

Grimmjow sighed and curled up closer to Ichigo. "Well, good." His eyes fell shut again, and the rumbling purr increased in volume. Ichigo leaned back against the wall, continuing to run his fingers through the espada's cerulean hair as the uneasy ripples in his reiatsu smoothed out. In the dark, it was easy to forget that they had once been deadly enemies, sworn to kill each other or die trying. _It's almost… peaceful_.

The jangling ring of his cell phone shattered that feeling beyond recovery. Ichigo grabbed it off of its charger and frowned. "Hat and Clogs, now isn't…" he began.

"You might want to turn on the news," Urahara interrupted, smooth voice overlaid with a hint of tension. "There's something you'll want to see."

Ichigo scowled. "Can you be more specific?" The grating beep of a dial tone answered him. Tossing the phone onto his bed, Ichigo snarled, "Dammit! Would it kill him to answer a few questions for once?" He knew he was overreacting, but he had truly been hoping to get through the night without any more crises.

Grimmjow lifted an eyebrow. "What did he want?" All traces of sleepiness vanished from the espada's manner as he sat up and propped his hands on his hips.

Ichigo's shoulders slumped, and he sighed in resignation. "Apparently there's something going on in the news that we need to see." He rolled his eyes. "Come on, the tv's downstairs. Keep quiet, we don't want to wake my family."

The house felt practically deserted as they tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room. Unwilling to turn the lights on, Ichigo ran his hands over the coffee table until he located the remote. _I really hope the volume isn't turned up too loud_. Taking a deep breath, he poked the power button, then hastily jabbed at the mute button. The screen filled with the image of a golden perfume bottle. "I'm guessing that's not what we're looking for," Grimmjow drawled, sprawling onto the couch.

Ichigo nudged his leg out of the way and sat, pushing away his sudden awareness of the espada's proximity. For some reason, it felt different now. "No, and be quiet," he whispered, thumbing through the channels until he found the local news station. The headline at the bottom of the screen read 'Breaking News: Assault at University of Tokyo.'

"I don't see why this is important," Grimmjow muttered, slouching further into the cushions. One hand drifted up to rub his injured shoulder, and he grimaced.

Ichigo shrugged. "I don't know, either… I wish I could remember how to turn on the subtitles; this isn't very informative." Grimmjow snorted softly, and Ichigo glanced at him awkwardly. "Or… I guess that wouldn't help you much, would it? Maybe I can put the sound on really low…"

When Grimmjow nodded his approval of that plan, Ichigo cautiously flipped the volume back on, in time to hear the anchor say, "Alright, folks; we've just received new information about the assault that took place at Todai earlier this evening. For those of you just joining us, the attack took place approximately one hour ago on the outskirts of the Kyu-Iwasaki-tei gardens. Witnesses report seeing a large man attacking university student Rentaro Onoe before fleeing the scene; an unconscious girl was discovered in the bushes nearby. Police have declined to release her identity, citing concerns about an ongoing investigation. However, they have just informed us that they have new information to share. Superintendent Shimizu?"

The screen split to reveal a weary, middle-aged man in the uniform of the Tokyo police. Scrubbing a hand over his brow, he nodded to the anchor. "Thanks, Takatsuna-san. While Onoe-san has not woken, hospital staff say that he is out of danger. He bears four large gashes on both shoulders, which resemble claw marks according to the doctors in attendance. This raises questions about the weapon or weapons used by his unknown assailant, as the injuries are clearly not caused by a knife."

"Would you care to speculate about the kind of weapons that might have caused them?" the anchor asked, smiling cheerfully at the police officer.

He heaved a sigh. "At the time, we have no credible ideas. One witness reports seeing claws growing out of the man's hands, while two others arrived on the scene too late to get a look at the suspect. Due to the darkness and the speed at which the incident took place, that lack of information is no surprise." Glancing down at his notes, he scowled. For a moment, it looked like he was going to say more, but, with a shake of his head, he shut his mouth again.

"What about the video footage that the police department released?" the anchor asked. Turning to face the audience, he explained, "A security camera across the street from the incident recorded this video around the time of the assault." As he spoke, the policeman's face was replaced by a grainy video. For the first few seconds of the clip, nothing moved in the deserted street. Then a hulking figure hurtled out of nowhere, dragging a muscular young man with him. The attacker smashed the student into the ground, pinning him to the sidewalk by his shoulders and getting into his face. The low resolution made it difficult to make out what was happening, but Ichigo thought that he could see a puddle of blood spreading out from beneath the victim. Then the attacker glanced to the side, released his victim, and sprinted away.

The video dissolved, returning the shot of the anchor and police superintendent to full screen, and the officer sighed. "As you can see, the video never shows the suspect's face. None of the three witnesses could provide a description, either."

The anchor lifted an eyebrow. "How can that be possible? We've heard from a confidential source that the police department has a witness who saw the whole thing." He spread his hands invitingly, urging the superintendent to say more.

"I…" the officer began, a harried look in his eyes. "I'm… not sure I can comment on that."

"So what good are you?" Grimmjow muttered, shifting restlessly. Ichigo brushed a hand over his knee and he settled down, inching slightly closer to the suddenly overheated teen. _Yeah, something's definitely different now_.

Signals must have been exchanged off-camera, for the anchor didn't say anything for a few long moments, while the officer glanced down at his notes. Finally he sighed. "Alright, here's what I'm allowed to say. One witness claims that he saw Onoe-san 'humping the girl, moaning and groping at her. She wasn't moving; I think she was half naked. Then this giant guy came out of nowhere and ripped him off her, started growling at him like he was some sort of animal. I swear, he sounded like a monster! He was in some sorta costume too; he had a muzzle and these giant claws instead of fingers. Then a couple guys came running and he took off. Vanished into thin air.'" As the superintendent spoke, a transcript of the witness's words appeared on the screen in place of the anchor's face.

The speech concluded, and the anchor gave the officer a forced smile. "I see what you mean; that sounds pretty far-fetched." He laughed lightly. "Do we have a magical monster stalking the streets of Tokyo now?" _Actually, yes_ , Ichigo thought to himself, _but they're not who you're looking for_.

The officer rolled his eyes, placing his palms flat against the desk in front of him. "No, we don't. This is a simple assault case, nothing more." Despite an obvious attempt to keep his tone polite, irritation snuck in. Ichigo couldn't blame him – unless he knew anything about the spirit world, such a question would seem absurd and counterproductive.

"What about the witness's claim about Onoe-san? Initial police reports did say that sexual assault was a possibility." A hint of apology had entered the anchor's tone.

Lines deepened in the police officer's face, making him look ten years older. "We're investigating all possibilities. The girl has been taken to the hospital, and has not awoken; she appears to be under the influence of drugs or alcohol. However, I cannot comment further." He turned to face the camera directly, making it look like he was staring straight at the viewers. "If you have any information about this incident, please contact the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department." That said, he pressed his lips firmly together, shifting as though about to rise from his chair.

"Alright then. Thank you, Superintendent Shimizu, for your commentary. We'll be back after this break with more breaking news coverage."

As the screen faded into a car commercial, Ichigo hit the mute button and turned to Grimmjow. "Alright, any idea why Hat and Clogs wanted us to see this?" It sounded like a tragedy, but it had nothing to do with them. It wasn't even in the same ward; the University of Tokyo was halfway across the city from Karakura Town. _Probably just some wacko on drugs who thinks he's Wolverine, or something_. He frowned. _Though it did sound like he might have been protecting the unnamed girl_ …

Grimmjow ran a hand through his hair, leaving it in messy spikes. "That video…" he began, staring fixedly at the screen. "Can you play it again?"

Ichigo shook his head. "It's not recorded, so no. I might be able to find it online, though, if the news station published it on their website."

"Website?" Grimmjow asked, wrinkling his brow.

"Yeah, you know, a site on the Internet?" Ichigo replied. Grimmjow's expression didn't change, though a hint of suspicion entered his azure eyes. "It's, well, it's a thing you can look at that holds information…" Ichigo started, before realizing that any explanation would be meaningless. "Here, let me show you." He reached for his phone, remembered that he'd left it on his bed, and rolled his eyes. "I'll be right back."

When he returned, Grimmjow was turning the remote over in his hands, muttering to himself. He'd somehow managed to access the settings menu, which had filled the screen with stark black-and-white menu options as the cursor blinked insistently. "What did you…" Grimmjow scowled, and Ichigo sighed. "Never mind." Rescuing the remote from the espada, he jabbed the power button, then tossed it onto the coffee table. "Here, this is what I mean when I say website." Holding up his smartphone, he navigated to the internet, then to the news channel's site. Grimmjow scooted closer and unselfconsciously leaned against his shoulder. Fighting back a blush, he explained, "The internet is kinda like a giant library, except that it's all accessible through stuff like phones and computers. I don't know much about how it works-" _Make that nothing about how it works_ … "-but I know it's really useful. Anyone can make a website and put information on it, though, so you can't believe everything you read online."

Grimmjow sighed, letting his head fall onto Ichigo's shoulder. "So, does it have the video?"

Ichigo scrolled through the site, searching for the breaking news tab. The mobile version of the website was a bit too full of ads, but he was able to pull up the video without too much trouble. "Yep. Here." The caption read 'Suspect in Todai assault caught on tape.'

He held out the phone, thinking that Grimmjow would take it, but the espada simply wrapped his hand around Ichigo's and pulled the phone closer to him. "How do you make it play?"

The espada's fingers were warm where they pressed against his. He wouldn't have expected it to affect him, but his skin felt overheated everywhere it made contact with Grimmjow's body. Considering their current positions, that was quite a lot of skin. Doing his best to ignore it, Ichigo muttered, "Um, just press the play button – the triangle one."

"I know what a play button looks like," Grimmjow grumbled, though his tone held no real offense.

Ichigo frowned. "How do you know that, but not know what the internet is?" For that matter, how did he know what video was?

"Szayelaporro," Grimmjow replied shortly. When he didn't say anything more, Ichigo gave him an inquiring look, and he sighed. "He set up cameras all throughout Las Noches. It was awful – you couldn't do anything without him spying on you, and he liked to show the 'best' moments to Aizen." He grimaced, and his fingers tightened around the phone. "Which he'd then show to the entire arrancar corps as an object lesson." His fingers clenched even tighter, and Ichigo flinched involuntarily. Grimmjow huffed and relaxed.

 _Well, that answers that question_. For all of Szayel's vaunted technological expertise, Ichigo suspected that the octava espada hadn't had the faintest clue about the world wide web. Cameras, on the other hand, were relatively simple and quite useful. Ichigo wasn't surprised that Aizen had bugged his entire fortress, though he winced to imagine a life under constant surveillance. _No wonder so many of them were insane_. If they hadn't been crazy when Aizen transformed them, the unrelenting supervision would have driven them there.

As Ichigo searched for something to say that wouldn't sound trite or patronizing, Grimmjow snorted. "I'm over it, okay? Just watch the damn video." He stabbed a finger at the screen with more force than necessary, and the video jolted into motion.

When the twenty-second clip concluded, Ichigo heaved a sigh. "I still don't get it. Why is this important?" The video was far too blurry and grainy to make out any details that might have been useful.

Grimmjow snorted. "Because I don't think that's a human." He reset the video to a point in the middle, where the large man was crouching over his victim, and pressed play. "Look. He moves too quickly to be mortal. Plus, look at the way the light bounces off his head and shoulders – that looks like bone to me."

"He could just be a runner," Ichigo replied dubiously. "Since when can cameras capture images of hollows?" If humans couldn't see them, why would their technology be any better?

"Cameras clearly recorded us in Las Noches," Grimmjow replied acerbically.

"Yeah, but…" Ichigo began, before pausing. _If they worked in Hueco Mundo, why wouldn't they work here? Unless Szayel was using a different kind of camera_ … "Okay, fine," he muttered. "Let's ask Urahara. He was the one who sent us on this wild goose chase, after all."

* * *

"Of course hollows can show up on film," Urahara told them, sounding wide awake despite the late hour. "They're physical creatures, after all." Through the phone speakers, his voice had a tinny quality to it, but it still managed to convey a sense of gentle superiority.

Grimmjow bristled at the tone. "So that video really does show a hollow?"

"Very good," Urahara replied smoothly.

Before he could continue, Ichigo interrupted, "Wait, I don't get it. How's that possible?"

"They're physical," Urahara repeated, still in that maddeningly smooth voice.

"Hat and Clogs, it's nearly 2 in the morning. I don't have time for this bullshit!" Ichigo snarled back, fed up with the way Urahara constantly dodged around questions he didn't want to answer. _If he gives me one more line about 'need to know' or anything like that, I swear I'll… I'll_ … He couldn't come up with a good threat, but he suspected that his tone had conveyed the general sentiment.

A sigh echoed through the speakers. "Ichigo, do you recall the lessons you've learned in physics? Light bounces off of solid objects; that's why you see them. You've seen hollows smash through buildings and leave footprints in the ground – if they can do that, they must be solid, which means that light interacts with them just like it interacts with every other object." He paused briefly. "Of course, that's a major oversimplification, but it works for now."

Ichigo gritted his teeth. "So why can't…" he began.

"Everyone see hollows?" Urahara completed. "Good question." Both Ichigo and Grimmjow growled at his condescension, but he ignored them. "Hollows project a kind of field, if you will, that confuses the human mind into believing that there's nothing there. The light still hits the retina, but the brain refuses to interpret the signals. Any amount of spiritual pressure automatically overrides this field, which is why humans with even marginal reiatsu can see hollows to some extent. Does that make sense?"

Ichigo had to admit that it did. "Thanks," he replied grudgingly, leaning back against the couch cushions. Grimmjow relaxed as well, slinging his arm over the back of the couch a millimeter away from Ichigo's shoulders. _Go on, lean back a bit further_ , Ichigo's hollow urged. _You know you want to_.

 _You just shut up_ , Ichigo snapped back. He resolutely turned his attention back to Urahara in time to catch the scientist's last few words. "…happy to help. Now, was that your only question?"

"I've got one," Grimmjow muttered. "Why'd you tell us to watch this? Yeah, it's a hollow… so what?"

Urahara shouldn't have been able to hear him, but he replied anyway. "That's what I'd like you to figure out. Why did this hollow attack a human, then run? Who is he, and what does he – or she – want?" A hint of a smile entered his voice. "Think on it, and tell me your theories tomorrow."

Apparently that was his idea of a goodbye, for the phone screen lit up as the call ended. Ichigo snarled at it. "Damn it, can't he ever be straightforward?" _This doling out information in bits and pieces is really getting old_.

Grimmjow shrugged, an amused smile playing about his lips. His arm slipped down a fraction, and Ichigo inhaled sharply as Grimmjow's hand curled around his shoulder. "Probably not." His tone turned sober. "But he asked a good question… why would a hollow – almost certainly an arrancar – do something like this?"

It wasn't a question either of them could answer.

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking?" Kinderras hissed, uncoiling his tail with a snap and lunging towards Marrok.

He pulled up short when the ursine arrancar refused to step backwards. "I was doing what I thought was right," he replied calmly. When Kinderras didn't advance further, he relaxed his stance. "As it had no effect on you, I see no reason why you should care." Settling onto the edge of the rooftop on which the trio perched, he turned to stare out at the darkened city.

Kinderras bared his teeth, reiatsu rising in anger. "And what if you'd been seen?" A dark drop of poison slid down one fang and fell onto his scales with a sizzling sound; he ignored it.

Marrok shrugged. "I wasn't." When Kinderras twitched his tail in frustration, Marrok added, "The human male had no reiatsu to speak of, and the girl was already unconscious. Besides, why would it matter if a human saw me?" He returned to his study of the skyline, ignoring Kinderras's livid hiss.

"You'd risk our mission for a mewling human girl?" the furious arrancar snarled, grabbing Marrok's shoulder and spinning him around. "Have a couple days in the living world made you that soft?" His fingers tightened cruelly.

Marrok inhaled slowly. "Your mission remains unharmed," he told Kinderras, staring directly into the smaller arrancar's scarlet eyes without a trace of fear or pain. Reaching across with his opposite hand, he pried Kinderras's fingers free from his shoulder and applied pressure to his wrist. The serpentine hollow winced, and Marrok released him. "There is no reason to worry."

Kinderras flexed his fingers and sneered. "Yeah? This place is a hotbed of shinigami and those damn vizards… what if one of them had seen you because you decided to…" He rolled his eyes. "I don't know, play the hero? We're supposed to be keeping a low profile till we grab him, remember?"

"They didn't," Marrok said, shrugging again.

"That's not good enough!"

Marrok turned back to the city, turning his back on Kinderras. "Why not?" His tone remained level, as did his reiatsu, though Arietta's spiritual pressure had begun to rise in response to Kinderras's obvious fury.

"Because… because…" Kinderras spluttered. "Because you could have gotten all of us killed!"

"He could have gotten you killed, you mean," Arietta drawled, strolling over to the duo. "Don't pretend you care about either of us." Kinderras turned his snarl on her, making her wings stiffen, but she didn't back down. One hand was clenched tight around a scrap of ribbon, while the other rested on her hip, only an inch away from the hilt of her scimitar.

Kinderras snorted in disgust and pulled his fangs back in. "You two are both hopeless." When neither responded, he sighed. "I'm going hunting; I expect you both to be here when I get back." It was a pointless power play, and all three arrancar knew it – they could easily find each other again if they got separated. But Arietta nodded sulkily and Marrok murmured an affirmative; neither were willing to challenge Kinderras to his face. Satisfied with their submission, he launched himself into the sky.

Once she was sure that he was out of earshot, Arietta dropped down into a cross-legged seat next to Marrok. "Windbag," she muttered. When Marrok didn't reply, she nudged him with her shoulder. "So, why'd you do it?"

Marrok exhaled heavily. "The girl was just a cub," he explained. "The sour stench of fear surrounded her, along with the scent of tainted blood. I couldn't just leave her there, at the mercy of that male." His nose wrinkled like he smelled something foul as he said the last word.

"She's just a human," Arietta pointed out in a bewildered tone.

"True," Marrok agreed. "But she was a cub nonetheless. Cubs are not fair prey."

Arietta stroked the tattered ribbon in her hand, expression pensive. "Maybe not," she murmured, brow wrinkling into a frown. Under her fingers, the moon turned the golden ribbon into liquid silver. "She always said that, too..."

If Marrok hadn't had keen ears even for an arrancar, he wouldn't have been able to hear the last sentence. He didn't know who Arietta was referring to, and he didn't ask. Instead, he sighed. "Shinigami call us monsters," he remarked, shuttering his eyes as a car chugged on by down below. "I wonder if they know how monstrous humans can be. We kill to survive and to protect our pack; they hurt each other for sport. Their actions are pointless, yet they continue to do them." He wrinkled his muzzle underneath his mask. "They don't even protect their own cubs."

Arietta snickered. "Yeah, well, they're idiots. Shinigami are no better – hidebound, arrogant freaks who can't see beyond the end of their own nose." Unfurling her wings, she stretched languidly. Silver moonlight glinted off of her hair as she tossed her head, running her tongue over her lips. "Anyway, I'm bored; I'm going out hunting. If hissy face gets mad about it, tell him he can suck his own tail." Before Marrok could respond, she launched herself at the sky, and vanished. Marrok sighed in resignation and turned back once again to the city. With both of his companions gone, he might finally get some peace and quiet.

Beneath him, the city continued to sleep.


	9. Needle in a Haystack

**Author's Note:**

Alright, lesson learned! I promise I'll keep this story on a happier note from now on, since it seems like people didn't enjoy the previous chapter as much. Thank you to the few of you (Kimikozumi, SoulMore, Glorilian, and scarletsaber) who reviewed the last couple chapters; your support keeps me writing! Especially big thanks to Kimikozumi for being so encouraging!

I hope you all enjoy this chapter; feedback (whether positive or negative) is always welcome!

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Needle in a Haystack  
**

The headline the next morning read 'Student attacked by monster? Parents outraged; university promises to investigate.'

Ichigo found out about this when his father crashed into his room at eight in the morning and launched himself at the sleeping teen. Reflexes born out of years of morning attacks woke Ichigo up in time to deflect his father's first attack, kick him in the stomach, and send him reeling backwards. Isshin grinned. "Very good, son!"

Ichigo flopped back down on his pillow, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What's so important?" he mumbled. "You do know it's a Saturday…" He had been hoping to sleep in, especially after staying up so late waiting for Grimmjow to awaken, but that was clearly a futile desire. When his father decided to wake him up like that, there was no going back to sleep.

Isshin tapped a rolled-up newspaper against his palm. "You were up pretty late last night, son. What were you doing?" His smile went goofy. "Talking to a girlfriend?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "As if. I just couldn't sleep."

His father's expression sobered, and he tossed the newspaper onto Ichigo's chest. "Would it have had anything to do with that?" There was more than a hint of steel in his tone, a reminder of the captain he'd once been.

Ichigo glanced down at the article, as well as the grainy, darkened photo that accompanied it, and winced. "Um, well…" He heaved a sigh and propped himself up on an elbow, debating how much to tell his father. It was obvious that Isshin knew something, but Ichigo had no idea how much. Though his father tended to take a laissez faire approach to his son's business, Ichigo knew that he kept in touch with Urahara – parental protectiveness outweighed his desire to ignore the events of the spirit worlds. Ichigo didn't particularly want to lie to him, but he also didn't want to explain the current mess.

Isshin's eyes twinkled. "Why don't you read the article first, then explain?" he suggested.

Ichigo groaned, but complied.

* * *

 **Student Attacked By Monster? Parents Outraged; University Promises To Investigate**

An evening's fun turned dangerous last night for a couple of university students, provoking parental inquiries about the safety of their children at the University of Tokyo. Late last evening, university freshman Rentaro Onoe was walking along the outskirts of the Kyu-Iwasaki-tei gardens when he was attacked by an unidentified assailant. The assault left him with gouges in both shoulders, resembling claw marks, as well as numerous bruises and other lacerations. Despite the serious nature of his injuries, the University of Tokyo Hospital reports that his condition has stabilized.

He was not able to give a statement to police, though he kept babbling about invisible monsters with claws until the hospital sedated him. Police say that he is in shock, but a hospital attendant disagrees. The only witness to the actual attack says that he saw a hulking man in a monster costume yank Onoe-san off of a girl whose name has not been released, also found at the scene, and pin him to the ground before fleeing. The witness claims that Onoe-san was assaulting the girl; Onoe-san disputes this claim. The girl was also taken to the hospital; a confidential source says that she is recovering from drug overdose. Another two witnesses came upon Onoe-san as the suspect fled, but both say that they saw nothing.

While the attack was captured on video, the picture is too blurry to identify the suspect. Police ask that anyone who has any information report it to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police. They urge citizens to remain calm, and promise that they will apprehend the suspect in short order.

* * *

Ichigo set the newspaper down and winced. If the attacker was a hollow, as they suspected, things were about to get very messy. He scowled. "Okay, yeah, I was up late because Hat and Clogs told me to watch the initial reports of this." At least it hadn't been a school night.

Isshin sighed. "If the Gotei 13 get wind of this, they'll send a task force to hunt down and slaughter every hollow in the city." His eyes flicked over to Ichigo's closet. "Then they'll be forced to modify the memory of every human who even guesses that this wasn't an ordinary attack by some crazed psychopath. It'll be one of the biggest coverups since World War II." He tapped the blurry picture to the right of the article. "Any idea who this is?"

Ichigo didn't need to look at the picture, but he did anyway. It had clearly been taken from the video clip that had been playing on the tv only hours previously, and depicted the unknown assailant glancing to the side as he pinned Onoe to the ground. Most of his face was obscured, but his broad shoulders and overall size spoke of a powerfully-built man – or arrancar. Ichigo shrugged and started to speak, then realized that he hadn't actually told his dad anything about the trio of arrancar that had attacked them. He hastily backpedaled. "Well, I, uh… I'm not sure. It's too dark and the photo quality is too poor to make out any details, and it's not like I know a whole lot of arrancar." The figure did look suspiciously similar to Marrok, though; he and Grimmjow had agreed on that much before retiring to bed.

He scowled. _I hope it really is Marrok; we don't need yet another arrancar running around and messing things up_. Four arrancar in one city were at least three too many.

Isshin lifted an eyebrow, but he didn't call Ichigo out on his evasions. Instead, he shook his head. "Well, keep an eye out." Then he reverted to his usual goofy self. "Now, son, get out of bed!" He plucked the newspaper out of Ichigo's hands and gave him a broad grin. "I expect you down for breakfast in ten minutes; Yuzu is making pancakes! No lying abed like a slug today, there are too many things to do! Your mother would never forgive me if I let you turn into a lazy couch potato, after all."

Ichigo groaned. "Alright, alright, I'll get up if you leave me alone." When his father showed no signs of leaving, he rolled his eyes and threw a forceful side kick into Isshin's gut, sending him flying out the door. He hit the opposite wall with a bang and slid down it with a foolish grin on his face.

"Very…" Isshin coughed. "Very good, son!" The last word was muffled as Ichigo slammed the door in his face.

"Man, your family's batshit insane," Grimmjow commented, emerging from the closet now that Isshin was safely out of the way. "How do you put up with it?" He ran his fingers through his electric blue hair, then propped his hand on his hip, mischief sparkling in his azure eyes.

Ichigo felt his mouth go dry. Grimmjow wore nothing but a pair of loose pants, revealing a heavily-muscled chest that looked disconcertingly human without the presence of his hollow hole. The old scar on his ribs from Ichigo's Getsuga Tensho was the only thing that marred his tanned skin; the gigai bore no signs of his recent injuries.

Grimmjow cocked his head to one side and smirked as Ichigo's cheeks flushed. Judging by the way he was posing, he knew precisely the effect he was having on Ichigo's teenage libido, and was enjoying it immensely.

"Uh… it's not that hard," Ichigo muttered in answer to Grimmjow's probably-rhetorical question, deliberately turning away and rummaging in his dresser for his clothes.

He didn't realize that he'd given the espada the perfect opening until Grimmjow chuckled lowly. "You sure about that?" he purred, and Ichigo blushed hotly.

"I… you… just shut up!" It was eight in the morning on a Saturday – his brain wasn't awake enough to play those sorts of games!

Grimmjow huffed with amusement. "Now, why would I do that?" he teased, taking a step forward.

Ichigo spun around and managed an approximation of a glare. "Because… because…" He couldn't come up with anything better, so he settled for the childish, "Because you're being a jerk."

Grimmjow lifted an eyebrow in amused skepticism. "That's the best you can do?" When Ichigo didn't reply, he laughed. "So, what'll you give me if I do?" He ran his tongue over his lips and smirked at Ichigo, whose cheeks were cherry red as his hollow muttered a few choice suggestions.

The substitute soul reaper refused to rise to the bait. "How about I don't kick your ass all the way to Hueco Mundo?" he muttered, yanking a pair of pants of the drawer with more force than necessary. Grimmjow's smirk broadened, and he rolled his eyes. "Let's just get through breakfast," he suggested.

"And then?" Grimmjow murmured, taking a step closer to Ichigo.

"Then we call Orihime."

* * *

"I've never seen anything like this before…" The orange-haired girl bent over Grimmjow's shoulder, peering through the golden glow of her Soten Kissun with a fascinated expression.

"So, can you fix it?" he growled, shifting his weight irritably. The constant dull ache, sporadically interrupted with spikes of fiery agony, had him ready to bite someone's head off at the slightest opportunity. Flirting with Ichigo had taken the edge off of his irritation, but dealing with Isshin's crazy antics during breakfast had brought it back in full force.

She gave him a reproachful look. "Of course I can."

"Grimmjow…" Ichigo warned, and the espada sighed.

"Thank you," he muttered, attempting to be gracious. It helped that the golden glow was already soothing away the pain, though the injury remained a nasty olive color.

They had flashstepped over to Orihime's apartment after breakfast, leaving their bodies behind in Ichigo's room. She had been happy to help, and had even offered to come to them, but Ichigo had suggested that they visit her, instead. His sisters still didn't know about Grimmjow's true nature, and Grimmjow suspected that they never would, if Ichigo had anything to say about it. He smirked. Personally, he wasn't so sure that Ichigo could keep them in the dark forever. Karin, in particular, was too wary, but even Yuzu was more observant than Ichigo gave her credit for.

Orihime prodded the glow with delicate fingers, and he winced. "Watch it!" Even the light touch burned against his inflamed skin.

She flushed. "Sorry, Grimmjow-san."

"Ah…" Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Ichigo glaring at him. "It's okay."

She smiled brightly at him. "I know it hurts, but don't worry, it'll be healed soon." She furrowed her brow. "How did you get this?"

Grimmjow shrugged awkwardly, the motion hampered by the glow around his shoulder. "Nelliel punched her lance through my shoulder." It had hurt like a bitch, too, but he hadn't expected the reaction afterwards. _And how did Arietta know that it wasn't healing right?_ Had she and Nel been working together? But no, if that was the case, Nel wouldn't have delivered him to Ichigo: she would have just killed him. He scowled. _This doesn't make any sense_.

Orihime cocked her head to one side. "Grimmjow-san, are you alright?"

His scowl deepened. "I'm fine." Then, seeing her crestfallen face, he relented. "I just can't figure out why it wouldn't be healing properly."

"Oh, that's easy!" Orihime beamed at him. "There's some sort of poison in your bloodstream, concentrated around your shoulder, though there's a bit surrounding that gash in your stomach, too. It's a weird poison; I've never healed anything like it." She shrugged. "There's a little bit of reiatsu in it, too, but not enough to make it impossible for me to heal it."

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed. "Whose reiatsu?"

She nibbled on her lip. "Well, I don't recognize it, so I don't know for sure, but it feels like another arrancar to me." A faint blush suffused her cheeks as she turned to Ichigo. "Ichigo-kun, can you feel anything?"

He shook his head. "Nope, sorry. You know I'm not that good at that sort of stuff."

Grimmjow frowned and rested the fingers of his uninjured arm on his abdomen, seeking for any foreign reiatsu. It felt like sifting through sand to find a miniscule fragment of bone; he couldn't sense anything but his own power. "Are you sure?" he asked dubiously.

Orihime widened her eyes. "Of course! It's definitely a poison, and there's definitely weird spirit energy in it." She pressed her hands onto the golden shield and frowned in concentration. "Just enough to make this take a bit longer." As the glow intensified, her frown smoothed away, and she lifted her hands. "Don't worry, though, it'll be healed in no time!"

He still couldn't feel anything, but he decided to take her at her word. She had no reason to lie, after all, and it stood to reason that a healer would be able to detect even minute traces of reiatsu. But that didn't answer the most pressing question: whose reiatsu was it? He scowled. "Would you recognize Nelliel's reiatsu?" When she nodded rapidly, he bit back a snarl. _If this isn't Nel's fault, then what the hell happened to me?_ The only other logical suspect was Arietta – she had a truly diabolical gift for poisons of various sorts, as he'd recently discovered. But he'd fought her months before his encounter with Nel, and hadn't noticed anything wrong in the intervening time. _Fuck_. He growled low in his throat. _This is so fucking stupid!_

Ichigo lifted an eyebrow. "Grimmjow…" he began in a warning tone.

Grimmjow slumped back against the wall. "I wasn't growling at her," he muttered, folding his arms across his chest. "Stop being so overprotective already."

"Oh, it's alright, Grimmjow-san; you should see Ichigo-kun when he's injured." She giggled. "He growls, too! Like a giant bear!" As she spoke, she gently wrapped her hand around Grimmjow's wrist and returned his injured arm to his side. "And, to answer your question more fully, I'd definitely recognize it; this is not Nel's reiatsu."

Ichigo was still stuck on her prior sentence. "I do not!" he protested indignantly, scowling in mock anger.

She giggled harder. "Well, you certainly don't sit still very well," she teased.

To his surprise, Grimmjow felt jealousy surge within his chest as he listened to them banter. Another low growl threatened to rumble its way out of his throat; he firmly squashed it. _What do you care?_ he reprimanded himself. _It's clearly been way too long since you've had a good fuck, that's all_ … Now more than ever, he missed Pantera – her sardonic sense of humor would straighten him out in no time. But she still slept deep within his inner world, waiting for her vessel to heal.

He sighed. _Dammit, Pantera… heal faster!_ It was oddly lonely without her commentary in the back of his mind. He could feel his reiatsu reserves slowly replenishing as the wound in his shoulder drew closed, but his zanpakuto showed no signs of awakening. He scowled. "Can you fix Pantera?" It came out more brusquely than he had intended, and he winced. "Please?"

Orihime blinked at him in puzzlement for a few seconds before comprehension lit up her face. "Oh, you mean your zanpakuto!" She bit her lip. "Could I… could I see her?"

Grimmjow reflexively hesitated for a moment, wary about handing his zanpakuto over to anyone – in the deserts of Hueco Mundo, such an act was the definition of idiocy. But here in the living world, there weren't monsters on every side waiting to pounce on the weak or foolish. Besides, if he didn't trust Orihime now, he might have to wait weeks for Pantera to heal.

The last thought was what decided him. Taking care not to move his healing shoulder, he reached down and unclipped Pantera from his sash. "Here."

Orihime accepted the blade from him with careful hands. They shook slightly, and she kept glancing at Ichigo, but when the substitute shinigami nodded encouragingly, she set the fragments on the table. "Oh, she's beautiful," she murmured, bending over the glittering shards. "Very… you."

Silence reigned for a few minutes, and Grimmjow turned his attention back to the puzzle of the foreign reiatsu in his blood. If it wasn't Nelliel's power, what was it? And how had it gotten into his body? Despite his best efforts to restrain himself, snarls kept bubbling out of his throat. Someone had fucking poisoned him, and he was going to tear them to shreds!

He didn't notice the way Orihime was casually edging away from him until she bumped into the table, knocking a teacup off the edge. Then he felt ashamed of himself. "Sorry," he muttered.

Orihime plastered a cheerful grin on her face as she turned to face him. "Don't worry about it. I know you must be stressed out about Pantera and your injuries. But look! Your shoulder is almost entirely healed!" She tapped a finger on the glowing shield and nodded approvingly. "In fact, I think this can come down now."

As the glow dissolved, Grimmjow rotated his shoulder in a cautious circle, then grinned. "Perfect!" He bared his teeth. "Now I can hunt down that little bitch and make her pay for yesterday!" He could already imagine her terrified face as she begged for mercy under his claws, but this time he wouldn't be stupid enough to grant it. _Oh, no, this time I'm not stopping until there's more of her blood on the ground than in her body_.

Orihime winced. "Um… who are you talking about?"

"Arietta," Grimmjow snarled, flexing his fingers and envisioning driving them through her skull. "The bitch who fucked me up yesterday." First he'd snap off that shiny horn of hers, then tear her wings to shreds… then maybe force-feed her her own poisons and see how she liked them.

"Um… was she the one who poisoned you so your shoulder couldn't heal?" Orihime asked timidly.

"How the hell should I know?" Grimmjow snapped back.

Orihime flinched but held her ground. Ichigo took a step forward, scowl forming, but she shook her head. "Grimmjow-san, calm down. I can't help you if you're this agitated." She wrinkled her nose. "Besides, if you want to get that wound in your gut healed, you're going to have to sit still for a little bit longer." A wave of her hand sent her fairies soaring over to him; they hovered expectantly around his abdomen until he sighed and took a seat. Orihime smiled. "Thank you." As her fairies went to work, she settled back against the table and regarded him with a curious expression. "So, do you know why Arietta wants to hurt you?"

"Fuck if I know," Grimmjow grumbled.

Ichigo scowled. "They were talking about capturing you alive," he pointed out. "They've got to have a reason."

He had a point, though Grimmjow didn't want to admit it. In Hueco Mundo, there was no point in capturing a defeated enemy – death or freedom were the only two options, unless the hollow wanted to bring live prey back to their cubs. _And somehow I don't think that's the bitch's goal. So what is?_

Nothing was adding up. He had apparently been poisoned, but he had no idea when or how; hollows that he had defeated were now seeking to capture him. Arietta kept making cryptic comments that made no sense, while Marrok – if it really was him – had, for some unknown reason, injured a human university student. Mystery piled on top of mystery, and there were no solutions in sight.

He bared his teeth. _Give me a clean fight any day, not this plotting bullshit_. Skulking about in shadows was for shinigami, not arrancar; he had no patience for it. "Can we just hunt them down and kill them all?" he muttered.

"Don't you think you should figure out why they're hunting you before you kill them?" Orihime asked. When Grimmjow scowled, she shrugged self-consciously. "I mean, I'd want to know."

"You know, she's right." Ichigo nodded. "There's something we're missing here, and I want to know what it is." He drummed his fingers on the table and scowled; Orihime patted him on the shoulder.

Grimmjow fought back another surge of jealousy. "You know, it won't matter what they're planning if we kill them all," he bit out.

"There are far better solutions," Orihime chided. He glared at her, but she just smiled sweetly back, then announced, "I think you're healed now."

Grimmjow prodded his abdomen and grinned. "Thanks. Can you fix Pantera too?" He needed to feel her hilt in his hand again, needed to feel her slice through skin and bone like it was nothing.

Orihime ran her fingers over Pantera's shards and frowned. "Um, well…" She twisted the fingers of her free hand into her hair. "I think it'd be better if she recovered naturally. Now that your body is purged of the poison, she should be back to normal in no time." Before he could argue, she explained, "My power doesn't work so well around massive quantities of reiatsu, and a zanpakuto is basically an enormous mass of compressed spirit energy. I don't want to force something and mess it up."

Grimmjow considered her words for a minute, then nodded. "Good enough." She passed the fragments over to him and he slid them back in their sheath. "So, can we go hunt down those idiots now, or what?"

Ichigo sighed. "Fine. But we're asking them questions first, alright?"

* * *

The admonition was pointless.

They searched until the sun sank below the horizon, staining the world in shades of gold, but to no avail. The only traces of reiatsu were days old and faded, faint trails that dissipated in the slightest breeze and led nowhere. Either the elusive arrancar had returned to Hueco Mundo for the day or they were concealed under some form of veil that masked the scent of their power; Ichigo was inclined to believe the latter. A garganta, no matter how well-concealed, would have left a noticeable mark in the surrounding reishi, and they had combed over every inch of the city. A trio of arrancar were somewhat easier to hide than an interdimensional portal.

 _Still, we should have found some sort of trace of them_ , Ichigo thought with frustration. _It's like they vanished into thin air! How is that possible?_

 _Patience_ , Zangetsu counseled. _As soon as they make a move, you'll find them_.

Ichigo scowled. _That's not good enough_. He wanted to find them now, before they had the chance to wreak any more havoc. They clearly didn't mind exposing their presence to ordinary humans – would they scruple to kill one? Lesser hollows preyed on unwary humans and plus souls alike, but they were no more intelligent than animals. Arrancar had no need to devour humans; mortals had far too little spirit energy to be useful. But that didn't mean they couldn't or wouldn't kill for their own perverse reasons.

 _King, you're being stupid_ , Ichigo's hollow spat. _The hollow in the video didn't kill the boy, and there was plenty of time to do so. Stop fretting over ifs and think for once_. The creature sounded petulant; Ichigo had refused to allow it to help him hunt, despite its protestations that it was a far better tracker than he was. Ichigo hadn't argued against that, but he hadn't wanted to give his hollow that much control over his body, either. It hadn't accepted his refusal calmly, and had spent the past few hours intermittently nagging him to let it out.

Because of that, Ichigo was too frustrated to admit that his hollow might have a point. _Just shut up unless you want to be useful_ , he snapped back. _Unless you know where they're hiding, I don't need to hear it_.

"You're talking to yourself again," Grimmjow commented, sliding closer to Ichigo. They were resting on the hillside next to the river, watching as the last rays of sun turned the water into glittering fool's gold; the grass was cool and dry.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and threw himself back against the hill. "Yeah, well, there's nothing else to do, is there? We're stuck waiting for those bastards to emerge from whatever hidey-hole they've secreted themselves in, and we've got no clue what's going to happen next. There's a kid in the hospital, probably put there by what's-his-face, the bear-like one, and we're lucky that he's not dead!"

"There are two kids in the hospital," Grimmjow corrected, sounding bored. "The boy, whatever his name was, and the girl who they won't name."

The anger ran out of Ichigo like water out of a broken vessel. "Yeah…" he muttered. "Yeah, true."

"Hey, at least both are still alive," Grimmjow offered.

Ichigo shrugged halfheartedly. "One is raving about invisible monsters and the other, well…" He trailed off. They still didn't have any real information about what had happened that night, just speculation and reports from confidential sources. It wasn't even really their problem, except that an arrancar had chosen to get involved. _But now we have to figure out why_.

Was it just a random attack, or was there something else going on? Ichigo was inclined to believe the latter, as the former made no sense at all. But 'something else' was a gigantic territory to explore; Marrok's true motives were as elusive as a needle in the sands of Hueco Mundo.

Ichigo swore under his breath and sat up, feeling frustration boiling through his blood once again. "This is stupid. We can't find them, we can't do anything about them, and we've been running around like headless chickens for the entire day with nothing to show for it." He laughed bitterly. "And, to top it off, I probably failed that damn math test because of them." _And you_.

Grimmjow bared his teeth in recognition of the subtext. "You seriously need to pull your head out of your ass," he growled. Then he shook his head. "Oh, screw this!"

The next thing Ichigo knew, he was flat on his back, staring up at the irate face of the former sexta espada and struggling to breathe. He blinked dazedly, and Grimmjow gave him a feral grin. "How about this? You either stop whining on your own, or I'll make you shut up." His grin widened. "You know, I hope you choose the latter option…" He leaned closer, pressing Ichigo's shoulders more firmly into the dirt. For a moment, Ichigo wondered if the espada was going to kiss him again, but Grimmjow paused only inches away. "So? What'll you pick?"

In response, Ichigo bucked, twisted, and reversed their positions. "I don't…" he began.

The rest of the words were driven out of his mind when Grimmjow snarled and jerked his shoulders sideways, wrapping an arm over the back of Ichigo's neck and yanking the substitute shinigami over his head. Ichigo somersaulted forwards and landed in a crouch, then spun around only to fall backward again as Grimmjow launched himself forward.

They tussled in the dirt for several minutes, rolling over and over; neither side was able to gain a significant advantage. Grimmjow outweighed Ichigo by a good thirty pounds, which gave him an edge, but Ichigo had years of practice squirming out of various holds and locks – all those years of wrestling with his father had paid off. Every time Grimmjow managed to pin him, he was able to eel away.

Grimmjow's eyes practically glowed with excitement as the combat grew fiercer. "Now that's more like it!" he crowed, yanking Ichigo's arm behind his back into a hammer lock. In retaliation, Ichigo grabbed Grimmjow's wrist, spun, and pulled Grimmjow off-balance. Before the espada could react, Ichigo drove a front kick into his solar plexus and leapt backwards. The air exploded from Grimmjow with a huff, and he laughed breathlessly. "Much better!"

Ichigo gritted his teeth and came back with a flurry of punches, taking advantage of his lighter build to push his speed to the limit. Grimmjow retreated under the barrage, hands blurring as he blocked and dodged, before lashing out with his own attack. Ichigo only realized that the low kick was a feint when Grimmjow's foot slipped past his guard and smashed into the side of his head in a powerful roundhouse kick. Though his ears were ringing, Ichigo immediately retaliated with a series of hook punches and uppercuts, and had the satisfaction of knocking Grimmjow back with a particularly nasty punch to the jaw. He finished the combination with a driving front kick and grinned as Grimmjow went flying backwards.

His triumph was short-lived. Grimmjow skidded to a halt a few inches above the grass, flipped Ichigo a rude hand sign, and darted forward. Now it was Ichigo's turn to backpedal as Grimmjow threw kick after kick – spinning hook kicks, side kicks, roundhouse kicks, and more, all whirling through the air and crashing into Ichigo's forearms as he blocked them. He could already feel bruises forming.

Finally Grimmjow launched a high crescent kick and Ichigo spotted an opening. Before the kick could reach its apex, Ichigo darted in and slammed his shoulder against Grimmjow's, bringing his knee up into the espada's gut at the same time. Grimmjow grunted in shock and folded inwards. Before he could recover, Ichigo grabbed the front of his jacket and swept his legs out from under him.

He'd intended to simply take Grimmjow down, but the former sexta had other plans. As he fell, he seized the front of Ichigo's gi top and yanked, sending Ichigo tumbling to the ground on top of him. The air whooshed out of Ichigo's lungs as he landed on Grimmjow's elbow, and Grimmjow pounced on the opening.

"You know, I'm starting to think you like this position," he teased, pressing a forearm against Ichigo's throat as he settled his weight more firmly on Ichigo's hips.

Ichigo's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as he searched for something to say. Heat flooded his cheeks as Grimmjow bent down, locking eyes with the orange-haired teen. "I… um…" he stuttered. _Is he_ … Even in the privacy of his own mind, he couldn't quite voice the question.

His face grew even hotter as Grimmjow drew nearer. Their breath mingled as the feline espada licked his lips; only a handspan separated their faces now. Ichigo's heart was racing, and it wasn't entirely due to the fight. _Is he seriously gonna_ …

Then Grimmjow sat up. Ichigo gaped at him. "Disappointed?" the espada chuckled, brushing a tendril of sweat-soaked hair off of Ichigo's forehead. He didn't bother to release the substitute shinigami, who was unnervingly aware of the bigger man's weight pressing down against him. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"You arrogant, overbearing… gahhh!" Ichigo spluttered incoherently. If his current state of mind wasn't bad enough, the comprehensibility of his speech was further mangled by the presence of Grimmjow's arm against his throat.

Grimmjow favored him with a satisfied smirk. "Maybe if you ask nicely enough…" he purred, cocking his head to one side. He ran his tongue over his lips again and loosened the pressure on Ichigo's neck. Ichigo gratefully inhaled, then gasped as Grimmjow ran his fingers down his throat, tracing the vee of his gi top. The espada's smirk widened.

"You… Fuck you, I'm not begging for anything, ever," Ichigo spat without any real venom.

Grimmjow chuckled low in his throat. "Never say never," he teased.

Ichigo could think of no possible response to that.


	10. Patience is a Virtue

**Author's Note:**

For some reason, this chapter was really hard to write, so I'd love some feedback on how it turned out. Thank you for your patience with the slow updates!

As always, major thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: The Crimson Guy, thekurosakiconundrum, SammaFennec, mythweaver 101, scarletsaber, kimikozumi, SoulMore, and Doubleblade Miriko, you are all awesome!

As a note, this chapter is mainly GrimmIchi fluff, with mentions of sexual content. None of it is too explicit, but please be aware of your own comfort levels and boundaries. I won't be offended if you decide to skip this chapter, and you won't miss any major plot developments.

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Patience is a Virtue  
**

 _You know, King, you really should take him up on his offer. I bet he'd take really, really good care of you_ …

 _For the thousandth time, shut the hell up!_ Ichigo buried his face in his hands and groaned. His hollow had not been silent for more than ten minutes in the four hours since his fight with Grimmjow, and it was driving him insane. The creature had a surprisingly vivid imagination, but he really didn't need those particular visuals – especially not when his traitorous brain kept supplying such images without any prompting.

It didn't help that the feline espada in question was currently lounging on Ichigo's bed – again – wearing nothing but a loose pair of hakama. He'd resumed his gigai, but the artificial body did nothing to conceal the predatory gleam in his eyes or the satisfied smirk he wore every time Ichigo's gaze hastily skated away from him. He didn't say anything, though; his expression said it all.

 _You know you want to_ , Ichigo's hollow whispered in his head. _Come on, think about it_ … The picture that followed was thoroughly filthy.

Heat flooded Ichigo's cheeks. _That's… oh, fucking hell, just shut up!_ He might be ready to admit to a certain level of physical attraction towards the espada, but acting on it was a whole separate matter.

Unfortunately, he'd made the mistake of admitting as much to his hollow, in an ill-thought-out attempt to silence it, and it had gleefully seized on his error. Four hours of taunts and lewd images later, he was ready to scream, but he didn't want to give his hollow the pleasure of knowing it had unsettled him that badly. It already had an uncanny knack for getting under his skin; it didn't need more ammunition.

Especially not ammunition that made his pants feel too tight.

Ichigo glanced over at Grimmjow once again, then quickly averted his eyes as the espada looked up from the swimsuit catalog he was leafing through. Grimmjow snickered. "Something on your mind, Ichi-chan?" he teased.

"Don't call me that," Ichigo shot back.

Grimmjow ran his hand through his hair. "And why not, _Ichi-chan_?" he drawled, heavy emphasis on the last word.

"Because I think you like your tongue right where it is right now," Ichigo retorted. Then, in a burst of inspiration, he added, "Grimm-kitty."

Grimmjow brushed off the threat, but his eyes narrowed at the pet name. "Kurosaki…" he warned.

Ichigo lifted an eyebrow. "What, don't like your nickname?" he asked innocently.

For a moment, he thought the espada was about to explode, but then Grimmjow huffed a laugh. "Touché." He propped himself up onto an elbow and let a smirk spread across his face. "I'd like to see you carry out that threat, though."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and flipped to a new chapter in his textbook. "You can't be that bored already; we've only been sitting here for a few hours." _Besides, I don't have time for yet another sparring match, even if it would be a good way to break up the tedium of studying_. School came first.

A low laugh rumbled from Grimmjow's throat. "Bored?" He tipped his head to one side. "You could call it that." He snorted. "I'm sure you're bored with studying by now, too." Ichigo glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowed, as Grimmjow continued, "You know, I could come up with some very fun ways to eliminate that boredom for both of us…"

Ichigo wasn't about to fall into Grimmjow's trap this time. "I'm sure you could," he remarked, turning back to his desk as though he didn't have a care in the world. His nerves thrummed with awareness of the powerful arrancar behind him, but he refused to show it.

Undeterred, Grimmjow slid off the bed and glided over to Ichigo's chair. "So, is that a yes?" he breathed next to Ichigo's ear.

Ichigo flinched away as heat cascaded through his cheeks. It unnerved him to have Grimmjow so close to his back, but he didn't feel threatened. _More like turned on and confused beyond belief_. His hindbrain – joined by his hollow – was lobbying for him to accept the espada's offer; his rational side strongly disagreed. Unfortunately, the former was slowly gaining ground as Grimmjow ran his nails over Ichigo's shoulders, sending delicious shivers down his spine. The caress had just a hint of claws in it, a pointed reminder that the feline espada was far from tame.

One of Grimmjow's hands slipped lower, tracing teasing patterns over Ichigo's collarbone, and a little whimper escaped the substitute shinigami's clenched teeth. Grimmjow chuckled. "You like that, don't you." It wasn't a question.

More color tinted Ichigo's cheeks as Grimmjow dug his thumbs into the tense muscles at the back of the teen's neck. The sensation of strong fingers kneading at taut muscles verged on painful, but Ichigo didn't mind the ache. The edge of pain made it feel more real, in a way; it reassured him that this wasn't a dream.

Then the giggles of his sisters drifted through his door and shame burned through him. What was he thinking? Despite his current behavior, Grimmjow was an espada, a sworn enemy of the shinigami. A sworn enemy of Ichigo himself! He wasn't like Nel, who refused to embrace the feral side of her hollow nature – no, he positively reveled in it. It was easy to be friends with Nel, but friendship with Grimmjow would be a whole other story. Would it even be possible?

Ichigo wanted to think that the answer was yes, but he had no real evidence one way or another.

 _King, you're being an idiot_ , his hollow snapped. _You've got plenty of evidence if you just open your damn eyes! Stop being such a pussy already_.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. _Fine, he's been on his best behavior for the past few days. They haven't exactly been normal days, though. What'll happen when he gets his zanpakuto back?_ The jagged shard of metal protruding from Pantera's hilt was already looking longer and sharper; another day would see it fully recovered. _What if he decides to resume our fight once he's back at full strength?_ Ichigo wasn't worried for himself – he could handle anything the former espada threw at him. But his sisters were distressingly vulnerable, and now Grimmjow knew who they were. He could easily take his anger out on them if he were so inclined.

His hollow sneered at him. _What happened to the fearless king I once served, huh? Maybe I should take this body back, see how Grimmjow likes it then. I bet he'd be thrilled_. The creature licked its lips. _I bet we'd have a lot of fun together… Would you like that, King?_ It rose up in Ichigo's mind, exerting its strength as it pressed against his mental boundaries.

Ichigo shoved it back down. _We both know that's never gonna happen, so shut up and leave me alone_.

 _I'll shut up if you man up_ , the hollow suggested snidely.

Ichigo groaned. Would he ever be able to find a way to get some peace within his own head? He would be able to figure all of this out if he could just think clearly for a few minutes.

Grimmjow's hands, however, were making it very hard to think at all. Ichigo hadn't realized how much tension he was carrying in his shoulders and neck; the release of harp-string-tight muscles felt incredible. He wouldn't have expected an arrancar to be skilled at massage, but it seemed like Grimmjow was an expert.

Ichigo hissed as a particularly fierce knot loosened. "Where'd you learn to do this?"

Grimmjow's hands stilled for a moment. "My mate taught me." He sighed. "She always said that I liked it so much, I should learn to do it myself."

Ichigo blinked. "You… have a mate?"

"Had," Grimmjow corrected. There was a wealth of sorrow in his tone. "She died decades ago."

"Oh." Ichigo twisted his head around. "I'm sorry." It felt so small and meaningless, but he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Grimmjow's hand dropped to his hip, fingers searching for a nonexistent hilt. "It was a long time ago." His mouth twisted into a bitter smile and his other hand tightened on Ichigo's shoulder. "But I'm stronger now, and that won't ever happen again." A low growl built in his throat before he shook his head and loosened his grip. "However, that's in the past now, and there are far more enjoyable things to think about right now." He practically purred the last words as he resumed rubbing Ichigo's shoulders, hands drifting upwards every once in a while to pet the teen's hair.

Ichigo exhaled tiredly and leaned into the caresses, unwilling to press Grimmjow further on a subject he obviously wanted to avoid. It couldn't hurt to enjoy a simple massage, could it? There was nothing sexual about it; it was simply a kind gesture. It didn't have to mean anything.

He snorted silently. Even in his own head that reasoning sounded weak. There was no denying that Grimmjow's interest in him was more than friendly – the espada had made that abundantly clear. Nor could he pretend that he didn't reciprocate that attraction, at least on a physical level. His skin hummed where Grimmjow touched it, sending sparks straight to his groin, and his breath hitched every time Grimmjow stroked his hair. His body, at least, was perfectly prepared to follow where the espada led.

 _Would that really be so terrible?_ For once his hollow sounded genuinely curious.

Ichigo shrugged, earning himself a muttered "Relax" from Grimmjow. _Maybe, maybe not. The problem is, I just don't know_.

 _Since when has that ever stopped you? You dove into the soul society without a clue what you'd be facing, then did it again when you went to Hueco Mundo. Your entire damn existence as a shinigami has been full of foolhardy risks with unknown consequences! Stop being such a whiny bitch and admit the real reason you're so afraid_.

Ichigo gritted his teeth, stung by the scorn in his hollow's voice. _I'm not afraid!_

 _Yeah? Prove it_.

"You know, this would go a lot better if you'd relax and stop fighting me," Grimmjow remarked conversationally. "Or do I need to give you something more to pay attention to?" His lips ghosted over Ichigo's ear and the substitute shinigami shivered. Grimmjow chuckled, then delicately nipped the side of Ichigo's neck.

Ichigo's whole body stiffened. _That was… fuck_. Turn-on was putting it mildly. He breathed a curse, shifting awkwardly in his chair, and Grimmjow laughed.

Then he bit down again and all rational thought fled Ichigo's brain.

The second bite was significantly harder than the first. Grimmjow's canines, sharp even in his gigai form, clamped down over Ichigo's jugular with enough pressure to almost break the skin, while his hands snaked around Ichigo's chest and held the teen in place. Ichigo arched into them, panting, as Grimmjow lapped at his throat.

A breathless whine slipped involuntarily from his lips as Grimmjow finally released him. "Damn you taste good," the espada murmured, voice rough and lower than usual. Ichigo shivered as the rich velvet sound died away, tilting his head to one side in silent invitation for Grimmjow to continue.

A hint of amusement flavored the espada's reiatsu as he dragged a fingernail down Ichigo's exposed neck. "Having fun?" Ichigo nodded jerkily and Grimmjow purred. "Good, because I certainly am." He nipped Ichigo's neck again, then pulled away as Ichigo gasped. A series of feather-light butterfly kisses followed, until Ichigo was squirming. Grimmjow smiled. "Now, what do you want me to do to you, hmm?"

"Um… ah…" Ichigo managed. His brain felt like he'd been struck by Arietta's lightning; he couldn't string two coherent words together. It was scant consolation that, judging by his reiatsu, Grimmjow seemed just as affected.

Grimmjow tangled his fingers in Ichigo's hair and tugged his head back. "I didn't quite get that," he teased, nuzzling the hollow of Ichigo's neck. "Want to try again?"

"Um…" It was hopeless. Between the lips at his throat and the hand in his hair, Ichigo's thoughts were scattered to the wind. His half-formed daydreams were nothing compared to the reality of the sensations coursing through him.

Grimmjow sighed and shook his head in mock disappointment. "That's not good enough, I'm afraid." His hand tightened in Ichigo's hair, drawing another gasp from the substitute shinigami. "You get one more try…"

Ichigo swallowed hard at the promise embedded in the silky threat. He'd never imagined that a few kisses could leave him so flustered and turned on, but Grimmjow had a way of thoroughly upending his expectations. _To be honest, I never really imagined any of this_ …

 _Stop overthinking it and give him an answer_ , his hollow sneered. _I've got a few suggestions if you can't come up with one on your own_ …

It offered one and Ichigo flushed. _There's no way I'm telling Grimmjow that!_

 _Your loss_. The hollow shrugged. _But you'd better come up with something quick… looks like he's getting impatient_.

Ichigo pulled his attention out of his inner world to find Grimmjow eying him like a choice cut of steak. The frank admiration and lust in those cerulean eyes made Ichigo's skin burn; his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Grimmjow leaned closer. "Well? I'm waiting…" He tugged Ichigo's hair for emphasis, then dragged his nails down the teen's chest.

"Ah…" Ichigo remained totally tongue-tied. He licked his lips and shrugged, unable to vocalize any of the ideas flowing through his head.

Grimmjow released him and took a step backwards, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, then, Kurosaki, I guess it's bedtime."

Ichigo spun in his chair, glaring hotly at the espada. He couldn't decide whether he was embarrassed, angry, or hurt, so he went with livid. "What the hell are you playing?" Had this all been a game to him? Was he just trying to elicit a reaction?

Humiliation and fury surged through his veins, only to be quelled by Grimmjow's next words. "Don't get me wrong, kid, I'd love to screw your brains out. But…" He shrugged, eyes glowing with a mixture of lust and playfulness. "I told you you'd beg, didn't I?" Ichigo flushed as the espada ran a finger down his cheek, then leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Besides, if you can't say what you want, maybe you're not quite ready yet." He backed away again and gave Ichigo a two-fingered salute. "Goodnight, Kurosaki." As he slid the closet door closed, he added, "Sweet dreams."

* * *

"We could take him now." Arietta fluttered her wings as she hovered over the Kurosaki house, glaring hotly at the nondescript roof. A scrap of ribbon wrapped around her white-knuckled fist. "There's nothing stopping us." Her reiatsu boiled with sullen crimson anger, which spiked every time she glanced at the ribbon.

Kinderras let his fangs fall from the roof of his mouth as he hissed at her. "You fool! Don't you feel the power below you? The damn shinigami isn't the only one near him; there are others who are equally strong. Do you really want to mess with them?" His tail shifted restlessly underneath him as he stared down at the darkened household. "We wait." There was no possibility of compromise in his tone.

Arietta sneered at the serpentine arrancar. "You're a fool if you think they scare me. A few drops of my poisons and they'd never wake up again." Her hand clenched tighter around the fraying ribbon. "I'm done with this skulking and hiding."

Marrok swung his head from side to side, sniffing the air. "There are too many mortals in that house," he declared, spreading his hands. "We'll get our chance soon enough, and we won't need to cause any unnecessary deaths."

Arietta spat. "Why the hell would you care if we kill a few stray mortals?"

"They are innocent children, and there is no reason to kill them. Furthermore, their deaths would bring the entire shinigami force down upon us, whereas taking Grimmjow alone will lead to no retaliation whatsoever. It is far more prudent to have patience." Marrok sighed heavily. "Though I know that is hardly your strong suite." Arietta huffed.

Kinderras snickered. "Well put. Don't worry, we'll get an opening soon enough." Malicious glee danced through his reiatsu. "He'll never know what hit him."

Arietta folded her arms and bared her sharklike teeth in a grimace, glaring down at the house. "Fine. But it'd better be soon."

* * *

It had taken all of Grimmjow's self-control to pull away when Ichigo couldn't answer his question, but he knew it'd be worth it in the end. He wanted the teen to have no regrets about his decision; it made everything so much more fun. If that meant waiting a bit, then so be it.

Grimmjow leaned back against his pillow and smirked. _Besides, I doubt it'll take that long_. Ichigo had been on the verge of caving; only embarrassment had stopped him, as far as Grimmjow could tell. A bit more encouragement ought to do the trick, and the espada would have no problem providing that.

He licked his lips. _It'd better happen soon, though_. He'd been on the verge of breaking his self-imposed rule that night, spurred on by the flashes of hollow darkness swirling through Ichigo's reiatsu as the substitute shinigami struggled to find something to say. The eerie power was both tantalizing and intriguing, carrying a feral wildness that brought Grimmjow's predator side to the fore. Even now, the urge to bite and claw and prove his dominance sang in his blood.

Ichigo would give as good as he got, too, which made the prospect even more alluring to Grimmjow. One-sided fights were no fun, but a fight with a real chance of losing? Glorious.

A low groan tumbled from Grimmjow's lips as his imagination flooded his brain with possible scenarios. Ichigo writhing underneath him, Grimmjow's hand on his throat as his teeth drew a trail of marks down the teen's chest; both of them bruised and battered and oh-so-alive. Blood staining both of their skins as the metallic taste of copper in his mouth mingled with the salt of sweat to create a heady, violent perfume… he could practically taste it already.

Grimmjow groaned again, one hand sliding into his hakama. _Fuck, Kurosaki_ … The teen had better figure out what he wanted, and fast. Daydreams were pleasant, but they were a far cry from the real thing.

Such pleasant musings were just starting to dissolve into true sleep when a dull thud snapped Grimmjow back to alertness. He slid open the closet door to see Ichigo thrashing around, tangled in his sheets and lashing out at invisible enemies. Reiatsu surged in a maelstrom around him, laced with the intoxicating darkness of his hollow side. The spiritual pressure permeating the room tasted of fury and despair; it was enough to bring Grimmjow to his knees.

He flared his own spirit energy in response, forcing the pressure off of him as he swung his legs off of his bed. "Dammit, Kurosaki…" he muttered without heat. "Go back to sleep already."

There wasn't much chance of that, and he knew it. The substitute shinigami was clearly caught in the grips of a nasty nightmare, judging by the whispered curses that fell from his lips, and it was showing no signs of dying down. His hands twitched like he was in the middle of mortal combat, while his out-of-control reiatsu spiked at irregular intervals. Grimmjow sighed. "Fuck…"

Ichigo's foot flailed out and smashed into his desk, sending another textbook crashing to the ground. Grimmjow winced at the crack – the teen would have some gorgeous bruises in the morning. _In fact, if he doesn't stop trying to hit imaginary opponents, he'll be lucky to avoid broken bones_. The espada sighed again. _Guess I should probably do something about that_ …

He hopped out of bed and strode over to Ichigo's side. "Hey, Kurosaki, wake up."

When the teen flopped onto his other side and muttered something incomprehensible, then stiffened and bared his teeth, Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Well, fine." He leaned over and grabbed Ichigo's wrists, pinning them above his head.

That turned out to be a big mistake.

Ichigo went into full attack mode, immediately lashing out at the espada attempting to subdue him. Grimmjow huffed as a foot caught him in the stomach, sending him tumbling backwards. His breath exploded from him as he collided with the floor, leaving him wheezing as the substitute shinigami – pulled by Grimmjow's grip on his wrists – landed on top of him. In ordinary circumstances, Grimmjow wouldn't have a problem with that position, but Ichigo was still fast asleep. _Which severely limits the possibilities_. He shifted his weight to the side and threw Ichigo off of him, then hastily grabbed him again as the teen threw a hook punch into Grimmjow's jaw.

Then the fight began in earnest.

"Damn it, Ichigo!" Grimmjow snarled when the whirling blur of fists finally stilled. One of his hands rested around Ichigo's throat, while both of the teen's hands were wrapped around his collar. "Why can't you ever stop fighting?" At least he was awake now; that was a major improvement.

"Because you woke me up, dumbass," Ichigo returned grumpily. He relaxed the white-knuckled grip he held on Grimmjow's shirt, but kept his hands in a guard position. The former espada loosened his grip marginally in response, and Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "Will you get off?"

Grimmjow leaned forward. "You sure you want me to do that?" He smirked and ran his tongue over his lips. "I know a great way to get rid of nightmares."

Ichigo felt his muscles go limp as his head flopped to the side, unable to look at Grimmjow's bright blue eyes. "I wasn't having a nightmare, alright?" he muttered. Darkness swam into his eyes briefly before he forced it away, along with the ragged spikes in his reiatsu. Grimmjow lifted an eyebrow, impressed by the control – he hadn't realized Ichigo could manipulate his spirit energy at all.

But that wasn't important at the moment. He heaved a sigh and sat up, straddling Ichigo's hips as he did his best to ignore the way the teen's body heat radiated through the fabric of his hakama. "It's not such a bad thing to get nightmares, you know," he offered. Ichigo just snorted and curled onto his side, a nonverbal accusation of 'what do you know about it?' Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "No, really. That mad scientist of yours said so."

"Hat and Clogs?" Ichigo asked, uncurling slightly.

Grimmjow nodded. "Yep. Said it was normal after being through a war. And that it helps to talk about them." He'd said a lot of other things, too, but they didn't seem as relevant right now. Grimmjow had no idea how the scientist had known about his nightmares – maybe it was just an educated guess – but his refusal to admit to their existence hadn't stopped Urahara's babble. It would have been irritating had it not seemed so useful, though Grimmjow wasn't about to admit that to the former captain.

"Sure," Ichigo drawled. "Well, I'm not about to talk, so go away."

Irritated, Grimmjow flipped Ichigo onto his back, pinning him to the rug with both hands on his shoulders. Getting into his face, he growled, "You are the most stubborn person I've ever met."

Ichigo stared up into Grimmjow's face, eyes wide with confusion and just a hint of desire. Grimmjow grinned internally at the latter and leaned a little closer, near enough to feel the substitute shinigami's breath huffing against his cheeks. It was incredibly tempting to kiss him again, but Grimmjow restrained himself – he wanted Ichigo to initiate their next encounter.

Unfortunately, Ichigo looked too flustered to do anything of the sort. He opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it again. Finally he managed, "You're one to talk."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Grimmjow's grip tightened on Ichigo's shoulders, and Ichigo glared at him. "I don't think you even know the meaning of the word 'compromise,' jackass. Now let me go."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes as he complied. "Fine, be that way." He sat back on his heels and gave Ichigo a curious look, then shook his head. "If that's all, I'm going back to bed." Though he tried to pretend that that had been his goal all along, he couldn't prevent the twinge of hurt that ran through him as Ichigo looked away.

He could, however, ignore it, which was what he chose to do. It was an irrational emotion anyway; he'd clearly been spending too much time in the human world. Feeling hurt over rejection by some stupid shinigami? He had to be out of his mind.

"Wait."

Grimmjow glanced over his shoulder as Ichigo scrambled to his feet and held out a hand. "Yeah?" He cocked his head to one side, watching as the teen shuffled his feet. The awkward look of shyness on Ichigo's face was more attractive than Grimmjow wanted to admit.

Ichigo glanced at the ground, then at his desk, as though he might derive some inspiration from the untidy pile of books. Grimmjow could hear his heartbeat speed up as his gaze landed on the espada before darting away again; he suspected that the teen was blushing. Finally Ichigo mumbled, "Look… I… I mean…" He sighed and shook his head. "Oh, screw it."

Then he leaned in and kissed Grimmjow.

Grimmjow blinked in surprise as Ichigo pulled back, biting his lower lip as he stared defiantly the espada. The mixture of challenge and uncertainty made Grimmjow smirk. "So, finally made up your mind?" he purred, taking a step closer to the substitute shinigami.

Ichigo held his ground, fire sparking in his dark eyes. "You could say that, yeah." He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Is that a problem?"

Grimmjow ran his tongue over his lips and grinned. "Nope." He was tempted to ask Ichigo what had taken so long, but he suspected that'd lead to a swift punch to the gut, and he was in the mood for a different kind of contact. _Not that fighting with him isn't almost as enjoyable_ … But it'd spoil the current mood.

The espada reached out and captured Ichigo's chin with his fingers, tipping the teen's head up. Ichigo's breath caught in his throat at the vulnerable position, and Grimmjow felt his heartbeat increase. _Damn, that's hot_. He wanted to sink his teeth into the exposed expanse of skin, taste the salt of Ichigo's skin as he bit down; he wanted to leave a trail of marks so the whole world would know his claim. His fingers tightened. "Fuck, Kurosaki…"

Ichigo lifted an eyebrow. "What?"

His tone, just short of mocking, snapped Grimmjow's tenuous hold on control. He lunged forward and pulled Ichigo into a harsh, open-mouthed kiss, practically snarling as their mouths collided.

The substitute soul reaper returned the kiss with equal fervor, reiatsu surging to fill the room with the heady scent of lust. Grimmjow breathed a curse into Ichigo's mouth as his own spirit energy rose to meet it. The teen tasted of salt and spices, with a hint of some indefinable flavor that was uniquely his – he was even more delicious than Grimmjow had remembered.

"Fuck…" he snarled, tearing his mouth away from Ichigo's to start a line of nips down the side of his neck. Ichigo's breath hissed out in an unsteady stream and his hands clenched around Grimmjow's shoulders as the espada bit harder, reveling in the teen's reactions. _Little bit kinky, hmm, Kurosaki?_

Then it was Grimmjow's turn to gasp as Ichigo raked his nails down the espada's bare back, landing on his hips and pulling him closer. "Damn, Kurosaki…" The heat of Ichigo's shirtless chest against his, combined with the fiery marks that the teen had just made, left him starving for more.

He could feel Ichigo's smile against his skin as the substitute shinigami nipped at his shoulder. "Good?"

Grimmjow arched his back as Ichigo lazily dragged his nails up the espada's spine, eliciting shockwave after shockwave. "Yeah… great," he purred, letting his hands drift down to the teen's waist. "Perfect."

It wasn't enough to quench the fire burning in his veins, though. He took one step forward, then another, forcing Ichigo to back up until he bumped into his dresser. A noise suspiciously close to a whine escaped the shinigami as their hips ground together, and only a monumental force of will kept a similar noise from leaving Grimmjow's throat. The heat and pressure felt absolutely incredible.

Things were really starting to heat up when Ichigo pulled away with a gasp. "Can we…" He flushed. "Pause for a bit?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Sure." He backed away a pace, allowing Ichigo to straighten off of his desk. The teen didn't sound upset – to the contrary, his reiatsu boiled with lust and pleasure. But there was a tiny thread of reluctance in there that made Grimmjow wary.

Ichigo dropped onto his bed and patted the sheet next to him, inviting Grimmjow to sit. The espada gingerly accepted, perching on the edge of the bed like it might suddenly turn into lava. Ichigo fidgeted. "So, umm… why… Why'd you wake me? Why…" He made a face. "Why… all this?"

"Because you were keeping me awake, and this is fun," Grimmjow replied flippantly. Then, at the flash of hurt in Ichigo's eyes, he backpedaled. "Okay, I didn't mean that." He paused, gnawing on his lip. "Look…" How much could he say? How much was safe? It went against every instinct he had to tell an enemy of his vulnerabilities – but maybe Ichigo wasn't an enemy anymore, even though he was a shinigami. Grimmjow sighed. "I get nightmares too, alright?" he bit out, more harshly than he intended. It was one thing to fool around with a shinigami, but quite another to reveal weakness to one; long experience told him it would bring nothing but trouble. He could override those instincts, but the conflict left him on edge and snappish.

To his surprise, Ichigo's eyes softened. "Want to tell me about them?" he offered, showing no visible reaction to Grimmjow's caustic tone.

Grimmjow snorted. "Yeah, no thanks."

"Now who's stubborn?" Ichigo muttered, glancing sidelong at the espada beside him.

Grimmjow huffed in amusement and ran his fingers over Ichigo's thigh. "Stubborn? I prefer practical." His fingers danced higher, and Ichigo inhaled sharply. "After all, I can think of something far more enjoyable to be doing…"

"Yeah?" Ichigo breathed, all traces of reluctance vanishing from his spiritual pressure.

Grimmjow nodded. "Yeah." And proceeded to prove it.


	11. Hunters and Prey

**Author's Note:**

Thank you to honeyMellon, Kimikozumi, scarletsaber, The Crimson Guy, SoulMore, Guest, Cinder Fall 39, and RSK1066 for your lovely reviews! I really appreciate your patience and your persistence!

Would anyone be interested in a slightly more M-rated interaction between Ichigo and Grimmjow? If enough people request it, I can write a supplemental chapter for this story.

In other news, I've started a new job – my first real one after college! The eight-to-five schedule leaves less time for writing than I'm used to, and only a handful of vacation days feels very odd, but I promise I won't abandon this story. We're getting closer to the end, after all!

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Hunters and Prey  
**

The next day, it was as if nothing had ever happened. When Ichigo's father barreled into the room to wake him up, Grimmjow was nowhere to be found, though they'd fallen asleep tangled in sweat-damp sheets. The espada must have slipped out sometime during the night; there wasn't a trace of spiritual pressure left in the room. The only evidence that he'd been there at all was the pile of hastily-discarded clothing thrown in the direction of the hamper.

That realization left a dull ache in Ichigo's chest. He halfheartedly fended off his dad's attack, sending him flying out the open window, then slammed the window shut with excessive force.

 _Ichigo, you must not take this too personally. Calm the thunder in your heart and find the espada before leaping to conclusions_.

Zangetsu's calm, rational voice grated on Ichigo's nerves, but he knew his zanpakuto was right. That didn't deaden his anger, though, as he yanked the sheets off his bed and crumpled them into a ball. _He couldn't bother saying goodbye?_ he snapped mentally. _Would that seriously have been too much trouble?_ He drove his fist into his pillow. _Damn espada. Was this all a game to him?_

Where was he, anyway? Had he gone back to Hueco Mundo?

The thought made Ichigo's blood boil, but a darker one quickly overtook it. What if he hadn't left of his own free will? What if the other arrancar had managed to capture him? Doing so without waking Ichigo up seemed unlikely, but he didn't know the full extent of their powers. Arietta had already shown quite a talent with poisons – could she have done something? But no… why leave him alive then?

 _You are such a fucking idiot_ , King, his hollow sneered. _If you'd pay attention to your reiatsu sense for once, you'd have all the answers you want_.

Ichigo's hands clenched around the balled-up sheets. "What the hell do you mean?" he snarled.

"Who are you talking to, Ichi-nii?"

Ichigo froze as Yuzu peered through the open doorway, cursing himself for forgetting to close the door after evicting his dad. Then he plastered a smile on his face. "Sorry, Yuzu, just talking to myself." She gave him a worried look, and he quirked his lips into a more natural grin. "Not enough sleep lately, I think."

She giggled. "Sure, I bet. You've been really busy studying." Her expression was totally innocent, but her eyes held the faintest spark of mischief. Ichigo groaned internally. He tried to hide his hollow from his sisters – he didn't want to scare them – but he suspected they both knew more than they let on. The damn thing was just too irritating.

Then she asked, "So is it laundry day?" and he realized that he was still holding an armful of bedding. He blushed.

"Um, yeah, I accidentally spilled some juice on my bed, so I was gonna throw these in the washing machine." The words tripped over themselves as he hurried to come up with a convincing explanation, wincing as he realized the potential double entendre. _Hopefully she doesn't catch that_ …

Yuzu spread her hands. "I was going to do laundry for everyone today anyway; I can take those if you want."

Ichigo took a small, involuntary step backwards. "Oh, no, it's okay, I can do it myself. I don't want to put you to any trouble." _Besides, it can't be too hard to run a single load of laundry, can it?_

The corners of her lips twitched as she dropped her hands. "Let me know if you need any help, alright?" she suggested. He nodded, cheeks flaming, and she beamed at him. "Anyway, I came by to tell you that breakfast will be done soon. When you see Grimmjow, will you let him know?"

Ichigo winced at her choice of words, but nodded anyway. "Sure, I'll do that." _If I see him again_.

Yuzu gave him another cheerful smile, then skipped off down the hall, and Ichigo slumped onto his bed. _What if I don't? What if he vanished into the desert of Hueco Mundo and he's never coming back?_

His gaze lighted on the soiled fabric in his hands and his lips twitched. _Well, that'd save me more awkward scenes like this one_ … His sisters definitely did _not_ need to know about his nighttime activities! They were far too young and, in Yuzu's case, innocent.

 _That's what you think, King_ , his hollow snickered. _She's not stupid, you know_. The creature rolled its eyes. _But you are. Seriously, stop being such a pussy already; man up and go find the damn arrancar_.

Ichigo groaned, but obediently hauled himself off of his bed. For once, his hollow might have a point, even if he expressed it in the most crude way possible. There was no reason to mope around until he actually knew for sure that Grimmjow had left – and if the arrancar hadn't, Ichigo was going to kick his ass for disappearing so unceremoniously.

But only after he threw his sheets in the laundry.

* * *

Unfortunately, by the time he'd gotten the washing machine to work, it was time for breakfast. Ichigo deflected Yuzu's worried questions with a forced smile, waving away her concern as he reassured her that Grimmjow was perfectly fine. Karin snorted, rolling her eyes and muttering something under her breath, but Ichigo didn't catch what it was. It sounded vaguely threatening, though.

After that, Yuzu's delicious tamagoyaki turned to ash in his mouth as he struggled to force his thoughts away from the infuriating espada. He managed to choke down a few more bites, but between Yuzu's worry and his own morbid thoughts, he couldn't stand to sit still any longer. "Sorry, Yuzu, I guess I'm not too hungry this morning," he apologized, standing with plate in hand.

"Now, son, you know you need to eat breakfast – it's the most important meal of the day!" Isshin chided. His eyes narrowed. "This doesn't have anything to do with Grimmjow, does it?" A trace of his sharp mind peeked out from behind his goofy façade, making Ichigo shift his weight from foot to foot.

"No, Dad, everything's fine. I'm just not hungry."

Isshin raised an eyebrow. "What would your mother think, seeing you waste all that good food? Cooked by your poor, hardworking sister, too!" He flung his arms out wide, nearly upending his coffee mug.

Karin kicked his shin as he continued to gesticulate violently. "Dad, stop it," she snapped.

Isshin turned to her with an aggrieved expression, and Ichigo hastened to make his escape. If he let his dad go on like this, he'd be stuck there for another hour – and that was if he was lucky. He couldn't afford that; he needed to go look for Grimmjow before the trail went cold.

A hand on his wrist stopped him. He glanced down to see Yuzu gazing calmly up at him with eyes too old for her thirteen-year-old face. "It'll be okay, Ichi-nii," she reassured him softly. "You'll see. It'll all work out."

Ichigo couldn't shake the suspicion that she knew more than she was letting on, but her face and voice were completely innocent. So he simply smiled at her. "I'm sure it will. Thank you for breakfast; it was delicious." She beamed back, and he added, "I'll see you tonight, alright?"

She hugged him quickly, then gave him another innocent smile. "Have fun! We'll see you at dinner."

Ichigo nodded. Hopefully by then he would have found Grimmjow and discovered that this was all a big misunderstanding.

But the former sexta espada wasn't anywhere to be found. The only traces of his reiatsu scattered around town were days old, and fading fast; it was as if something had erased his presence from the living world. Tracking was far from Ichigo's strong suite, but even he couldn't miss the presence of an espada in town, unless that espada was taking care to hide.

The thought simultaneously frustrated and depressed him. If Grimmjow remained in the living world, he was deliberately concealing himself; if not, he'd left without so much as a glance behind him. Ichigo wasn't sure which scenario would hurt worse.

Probably the latter, he concluded after several hours combing the town. At least if Grimmjow was still around Karakura Town, Ichigo could kick his ass for being such an insensitive asshole.

He grimaced. _Then again, that requires that I find him, and that's not looking likely_. He'd ditched his body with Kon an hour into the search, giving the mod soul strict instructions to stay out of trouble, and resumed hunting in his far-more-mobile spirit form, but it hadn't helped. If Grimmjow was around, he wasn't about to let Ichigo know it.

Finally, for lack of anything better to do, Ichigo headed over to Urahara's shop.

The shopkeeper didn't appear surprised to see him as he stormed into the shop. "Ah, come in, come in." He smiled genially. "What brings you here to my humble shop?"

Ichigo folded his arms. "Where's Grimmjow?"

Urahara lifted his eyebrows, a picture-perfect expression of confusion on his face. "Why, I don't know. If he's not with you, I would assume he went back to Hueco Mundo."

After hours of fruitless searching, Ichigo was in no mood to play games. Urahara's semblance of puzzlement was just too good, and he didn't appear worried at all; he clearly knew something. "Don't tell me you've got no idea where he is," Ichigo grated, taking a step forwards and scowling. "You keep tabs on everything that goes on around this town – there's no way you'd miss the opening of a garganta. And I don't believe that you'd simply let a former enemy freely wander around." His hands clenched into fists.

"Former enemy?" Urahara asked curiously, lightly stressing the first word. "What makes you say that?" Ichigo heaved a sigh, but before he could muster an answer, Urahara shook his head. "But where are my manners? Come, sit down and have a cup of tea; you can tell me all about it then." He waved a hand towards the low table. "Sit, sit." Though his tone was light and friendly, it held a certain quality that suggested that refusal would be a bad idea.

Ichigo rolled his eyes as he dropped onto a cushion next to the table and accepted a porcelain teacup. "Thanks," he muttered.

Urahara graciously inclined his head. "My pleasure. So, you called Grimmjow a former enemy…" He gestured encouragingly at Ichigo, urging him to explain.

"I mean, he hasn't tried to attack me once…" Ichigo sighed. _Except for play_... "He's been on his best behavior. I don't think he's really an enemy anymore."

"He's still an arrancar," Urahara pointed out in a neutral tone.

Ichigo lifted one shoulder in an awkward shrug. "Yeah, but… they're not all bad. Look at Nel. She's great – maybe a bit annoying at times, but she wouldn't hurt a fly. Grimmjow's more violent, but I don't think he's a threat."

Or, at least, that was what he had assumed until this morning. Now? He wasn't so sure. He had a hard time imagining the espada returning to his former murderous existence – after all, Grimmjow had sworn to kill him, and had had plenty of chances to do so, but hadn't taken any of them. _Hell, last night would have been the perfect time to inflict some serious damage, but I felt perfectly safe the whole time_. The thought of danger hadn't even crossed his mind.

Urahara lifted his teacup to his lips, but didn't drink. "This seems like a change of heart," he observed, inhaling the steam from the cup with an appreciative smile.

Ichigo huffed a sigh. "I know what you're trying to do, and it isn't going to work. Just tell me where Grimmjow is, alright?" He did his best to keep his voice smooth, but frustration leaked through anyway.

The former captain took a sip of tea and savored the flavor for a moment before nodding. "I'm afraid I truly don't know. He came by early this morning and dropped his gigai off – said he wouldn't need it anymore. It's a good thing he did, too; I didn't realize that some of the chemicals used to simulate blood flow would react negatively to the presence of arrancar spirit energy. The poor gigai was in quite bad shape, though it appears as though the disintegration had occurred in the past few hours." He frowned. "Were you two fighting? Only a fairly major expenditure of spirit energy would have caused the issues that I saw."

A blush crept up on Ichigo's cheeks. "We sparred a bit," he mumbled.

 _Sure, if 'sparred' means 'fucked like horny rabbits,'_ his hollow jeered. Ichigo ignored the comment.

Urahara took another sip of tea. "Hmm. But he didn't tell you he was leaving?"

"So he left?" Ichigo asked quickly. He could feel his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach, but he refused to show it.

Urahara shook his head. "I didn't say that."

"Stop playing games!" Ichigo bit out. "If he didn't leave, where the hell is he?" He didn't bother trying to moderate his tone this time.

Instead of replying, Urahara set the teacup down on the table and rose to his feet. "Come with me to the lab," he urged. "There's something I'd like to show you."

For a moment, Ichigo was tempted to refuse. What good would it do? He was sick of the games and the uncertainty, and growing increasingly tired of the feeling that his mentor was playing him like a fish on a line. But, if he left, he'd have no more knowledge than he came with, and he'd already searched every inch of Karakura Town. Urahara was his last hope.

So he forced the scowl away from his face and trotted after the eccentric scientist. _This had better be worth it_.

"You know, Ichigo, feelings are nothing to be ashamed of," Urahara commented over his shoulder as he swung open the heavy door to the lab.

Ichigo stumbled to a halt. "What… what do you mean?" he asked, a bit too hastily for a convincing pretense of innocence.

Urahara chuckled. "Unless I'm very much mistaken…" He paused, and a hundred different scenarios fluttered through Ichigo's mind. "…you and Grimmjow have actually managed to become friends." Ichigo heaved a silent sigh of relief as Urahara continued, "That's a very good thing! Few shinigami realize it yet, but the arrancar are far from mindless beasts. If we're to avert another conflict like the war with Aizen, we need to treat them as our equals." He motioned Ichigo into the dark, cluttered lab, then flicked the light switch. "It goes against all of our instincts, but vizards and arrancar are truly very similar. If we're to accept one, we need to accept both, and I hardly think many shinigami would argue against the acceptance of the vizards at this point – not after their heroic actions against Aizen."

Ichigo scarcely heard the last sentence. As soon as the lights flickered on, his gaze had landed on Grimmjow's abandoned gigai, which was lying on a stainless steel table near the front of the room. Its hands were folded across its chest like a mummy, and its skin was a dead, waxy white that reminded Ichigo of a mannequin. The vibrant black tattoo on its shoulder had vanished; the brilliant azure hair had turned a muddy navy blue. Without Grimmjow's spirit to animate it, it looked like a corpse about to be dissected.

Ichigo's stomach roiled. He was no stranger to injury and death at this point, but seeing something that looked eerily similar to Grimmjow's body unnerved him. Had he really kissed that only hours previously? He was accustomed to seeing the empty gigais of his shinigami friends, but this was somehow different.

Maybe it was the deterioration. Urahara hadn't been joking – the gigai wasn't in great shape. It still wore the modern clothes Urahara had lent to Grimmjow, but they hung loosely on its frame, as though the gigai had lost too much weight. Abandoned shinigami gigais could resemble a sleeping person if you didn't look too closely, but no one would ever mistake this for a living human.

Ichigo grimaced. The gigai almost looked like a stage prop, a replica corpse about to be used on one of the innumerable cop shows that Westerners were so fond of, but it was slightly too real for that. Part of his mind kept insisting that it was really Grimmjow in front of him, trapped in some sort of malicious kido spell.

 _What, and you're Prince Charming, to wake him with a kiss?_ his hollow sneered.

The comment broke Ichigo's paralysis. He bit back a laugh, hastily coughing when Urahara gave him an inquiring look. "Too much dust down here," he explained.

The scientist gave him a sheepish smile. "I haven't had the time to clean in a while, and I don't let Ururu and Jinta in here. They're good kids, but…" He shrugged, and Ichigo had no problem imagining what would happen if the two touched the wrong thing while cleaning – he estimated that over half of the gadgets on the shelves were weapons of some variety.

"Yeah, I can see that being a problem," he agreed, gingerly picking his way around the clutter to an empty chair. "Where are they, anyway?" He wasn't about to pass up such a convenient subject change.

"Yoruichi took Ururu out shopping, I think, and Jinta's around somewhere." Urahara nodded like a fencer acknowledging a touch, then changed the subject back. "But we were discussing Grimmjow, I believe."

Ichigo stifled a groan. _So much for getting out of here quickly_. "You still haven't told me where he is," he pointed out. "He's still got that power limiter on him; can't you track that?"

Urahara flipped open his fan and fluttered it in front of his face. "Oh, actually, about that…"

Ichigo groaned out loud this time. "Don't tell me… you took it off him." There was only one reason the former captain would have done that – Grimmjow must have been going straight back to Hueco Mundo. _I can't believe it_. Anger surged through his veins. _I can't believe he'd leave just like that. Are you fucking kidding me?_ He'd thought… well, he didn't know what to think anymore. _I'm going to fucking kill him_.

Urahara's fan fluttered faster. "Now, don't worry, he promised he wouldn't attack anyone here. I left a bit of kido on him, too, so that any aggression while in the living world causes the immediate return of the power limiter. The moment he attacks someone, his powers will be restricted again."

The thought of potential danger hadn't even crossed Ichigo's mind, but Urahara's words brought fresh worry. "What about the arrancar chasing him? Will he be able to fight back if they attack him?"

Urahara lifted an eyebrow, and Ichigo realized that he hadn't told his mentor about the trio of arrancar. As a matter of fact, he hadn't ever gotten back to Urahara on the matter of the presumed arrancar who'd shown up on television – he was surprised that the scientist hadn't brought that up yet. He sighed. "It's a long story."

Urahara tipped his hat over his eyes. "I've got time." His lips quirked. "And, yes, he should be able to defend himself, though the kido is rather inexact. It may seize upon any bloodshed as a trigger; I didn't have time to test it fully."

 _Great… Now what? I sit here and tell stories while those damn arrancar beat Grimmjow to a pulp?_ Ichigo thought rebelliously. But giving an explanation would be quicker than arguing about why he didn't have time, so he launched into the story.

By the end, Urahara's eyes were sparkling. "And you say these arrancar want to capture him alive? Fascinating! I wonder what they're planning on doing…" He snagged a scrap of paper from a nearby shelf and started scribbling. "There are only a few possibilities, and none of them are good… If Aizen was still around, this would make more sense… But no, how would they…" His voice dropped as he spoke, until he was barely mumbling to himself.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Can I go now?"

Urahara glanced up at him, blinking like a startled owl. "What? Oh, yes, I suppose so." Then, as Ichigo started to rise, he threw up a hand. "Wait, you said that you think that the arrancar who rescued that girl is a member of this trio?"

Ichigo sighed and dropped back into his chair. "Yeah, the bear-like one named Marrok. I've got no clue why he did it, though," he added, anticipating Urahara's next question.

"Possibly the answer is simpler than we think," the scientist replied cryptically. He scribbled a sentence, then scratched it out, mouth moving as he ran through calculations in his head. Ichigo, all-too-familiar with the former captain's eccentricities, waited patiently.

At last Urahara looked up fully from the paper. "There are no good guesses here," he declared. "If Aizen was still in charge, I'd have a much better idea of what was going on, but these three are an unknown. Their presence… complicates things."

"I'm pretty sure the snake one is their leader," Ichigo offered. "Arietta, the one who looks like an evil fairy, hates Grimmjow the most, though."

"Hmmm…" Urahara nodded. "So we've got one arrancar who's probably out for revenge, and another who wants Grimmjow for some unknown reason that probably involves power, as most arrancar – and, indeed, shinigami – motives do. Those motivations make sense. But the third one, Marrok – he doesn't fit. His participation in the group throws a wrench in the gears, so to speak."

At another time, Ichigo might have enjoyed tossing around ideas with the former captain, but right now, he wanted to find Grimmjow before the trio did. "I don't know," he replied curtly. "Your guess is better than mine." He pulled himself to his feet. "I have to go, though."

Urahara nodded. "Of course. Good luck finding him." He smiled. "I can tell you that he's still in the living world; there have been no garganta opened in the past ten hours."

"You couldn't have said that at the beginning?" Ichigo muttered, but he couldn't muster much anger. The thought that Grimmjow might still be around, that he hadn't simply vanished, sparked an unexpected bubble of hope in his chest.

If Urahara heard him, he gave no sign of it. Instead, he spun his chair around and yanked open a drawer in the cabinet behind him, pulling out a small envelope. Ichigo eyed it warily. "What's that?"

"Something you might need." It wasn't precisely an answer, but Urahara didn't elaborate as he passed the envelope to Ichigo. "If you do, show it to Grimmjow; he'll know what to do."

 _Great, another puzzle_. Ichigo scowled, but he slipped the envelope into a pocket nonetheless. "Thanks." He took a couple steps towards the door. "Now, I really do have to go…"

Urahara, who had already returned to his calculations, waved a hand at him. "Good luck!"

* * *

The sun was sinking towards the horizon when Ichigo finally found Grimmjow – perched on the roof of Karakura High School, of all places. If the espada hadn't dropped whatever mechanism he had been using to conceal his spiritual pressure, Ichigo never would have found him.

Grimmjow didn't bother to look up when Ichigo dropped onto the edge of the roof beside him. His gaze was fastened on his hands, which were tracing random patterns over Pantera's blade, but they held a distant glaze to them, as though he wasn't really seeing the gleaming metal. The wound in his shoulder was nothing more than an ugly red scar, while his other injuries had vanished entirely. His reiatsu flickered in sullen, undecipherable waves.

After a few minutes, Ichigo couldn't take the silence anymore. "Hey."

Grimmjow's hands stilled. "I thought I'd be back in Hueco Mundo by now," he commented. "So why am I still here?" His hand clenched around Pantera's hilt, white knuckles belying the casual tone.

Ichigo shrugged, stealing a glance at the blue-haired espada. "I don't know?" Though he'd love an answer to that question. Pantera was clearly fully recovered; there was nothing holding Grimmjow back from returning home now. So why wasn't he long gone?

The teen would have liked to think that it had something to do with him, but he knew better. Arrancar might be closer to human than most hollows, but they still had trouble with softer emotions. _And, well, it's Grimmjow. If he can feel more than anger, hunger, and lust, I'd be surprised_.

 _You're pitying yourself again_ , his hollow pointed out acerbically.

Grimmjow snorted. "Yeah. Well, fuck this bullshit, anyway." His voice held the heat of anger, but it wasn't directed at Ichigo. Reiatsu swirled around him in an agitated storm, sparking against Ichigo's own power as it brushed his skin. The sensation sent electric sparks through the substitute shinigami, who grimaced. Now was not the time.

Silence fell again, only to be broken by Grimmjow's sigh. "Fuck." Ichigo tentatively reached out and placed a hand on his knee, and Grimmjow barked a laugh. "You're such a pain in the ass sometimes, Kurosaki." His shoulders slumped. "A fucking delicious pain in the ass, though."

Ichigo blinked. "Um…" he managed. _That… didn't sound like an outright rejection, at least_. But it also hadn't sounded very encouraging.

 _You sound like a prissy little girl worrying over her crush_ , his hollow jeered. _Man up already!_ It surged against the barriers of his inner world. _Grow some balls, why don't you?_

Ichigo winced as an echo of Rukia's voice floated through his mind. The last time a guy had said that around her, she'd kicked the crap out of them for being a sexist asshole; he didn't want to know what she'd do if she ever heard his hollow speak. He grimaced. _Then again, none of my friends would be pleased, though they'd probably express it more calmly_. There was more than one reason why he kept the creature locked away inside his mind.

That was completely beside the point, though. Repeating well-worn complaints about his hollow wouldn't solve the situation in front of him, and he wasn't about to simply walk away. So he took a deep breath. "What…" He stopped. "Okay, never mind. Why are you still here?"

He didn't mean to sound angry, but Grimmjow bared his teeth. "Something wrong with that?" he challenged.

Ichigo threw up his hands. "Fuck. Can't you give a straight answer for once?"

Grimmjow huffed, dragging one finger down Pantera's blade. "Can't you?" He prodded the tip of the sword with his thumb, then lapped at the beads of blood that welled up, eyes focused intently on Ichigo.

"You haven't asked anything," Ichigo snapped back, suppressing the heat that had flooded into his veins as he watched Grimmjow's tongue twine around his fingers.

A humorless chuckle bubbled out of Grimmjow's throat. "Touché." He paused, hand dropping back to the blade. "Fine. I'm here cause I didn't want to leave." He glared at Ichigo. "Happy now?"

A smile spread across Ichigo's face as he nodded. "Yep, I am."

"Cocky little shit," Grimmjow muttered, though he didn't sound annoyed.

Ichigo smirked at him. "So, why didn't you want to leave?" His tone dripped with challenge; there was no way the espada could ignore the unspoken implication that silence would be admitting defeat.

Grimmjow hesitated for a long moment, and butterflies surged in Ichigo's stomach. What if the espada had remained to hunt down his enemies? What if he truly didn't care about Ichigo at all? Ichigo thought they had managed to become friends, at least, if not something more, but maybe last night had just been a bit of pleasure for the former sexta.

Ichigo made a face. If that was the case, well… he wouldn't regret it, for it had been an incredible night. But he'd certainly be disappointed. It wasn't that he wanted some sort of serious long-term relationship, complete with rose petals and candlelit dinners – there was nothing wrong with that, but it wasn't something he'd enjoy in the slightest. But he'd hoped that it would turn into something more than a one night stand, at least.

At last Grimmjow seemed to make up his mind. "I don't know, really." He sighed. "I just… the desert is gorgeous, you know? Rolling dunes as far as the eye can see, under a pitch black sky. But there isn't anyone else around, especially now. Las Noches is a crumbling ruin, the surviving espada are scattered to the winds, and Aizen's damn war killed off basically every high-level hollow in the place."

"So you're lonely," Ichigo surmised.

"Not hardly," Grimmjow scoffed quickly. Ichigo trained a steady gaze on him, and he rolled his eyes. "I'm just bored there, that's all."

"Uh-huh," Ichigo replied, careful to keep his face and voice neutral. He suspected that it was more than that, but if Grimmjow wasn't going to admit it, he wouldn't press the issue.

Grimmjow cast a suspicious glance in his direction. "Yeah. There's nothing to do there but hunt, run, and sleep, and you can only spend so many hours training by yourself."

That, Ichigo had no problem believing. He'd spent far too many hours in Urahara's underground training area practicing various skills, and he'd never managed to escape the onset of tedium. He'd never had to practice alone for long – Urahara, Yoruichi, and a stream of visiting shinigami were always willing to spar – but he could thoroughly sympathize with Grimmjow's complaint there. "Well, you can always come here and we can spar," he offered.

Grimmjow lifted an eyebrow. "Is that so?" he murmured.

Ichigo lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. "I mean, so long as you don't hurt anyone around here, yeah." He definitely wouldn't complain about the chance to fight the feral espada, so long as Grimmjow didn't interrupt him too often while he was studying.

Or, at least, as long as the espada let him get back to work afterwards.

Grimmjow's lips twitched as he glanced up at Ichigo, then returned to staring out at the city. "Maybe I'll do that, then." An odd sort of nostalgia infused his voice with melancholy, though he did his best to conceal it.

Ichigo bit his lip, then blurted out, "So, why'd you leave this morning?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Was gonna go home, since Pantera was fixed…" He cast a fond glance at his zanpakuto. "…but, well, I didn't really want to go back just yet. So I kinda just stuck around for a while."

"Why hide, then?" Ichigo asked bluntly.

Again, Grimmjow lifted his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. "I guess…" He trailed off. Ichigo held his breath as a feeling of anticipation swept over him, borne by the storm suddenly raging in Grimmjow's reiatsu – what was he about to say?

The espada took one deep breath, then another. "I thought it'd be easier like that," he finally muttered, eyes fixed on Pantera.

"Easier?" Ichigo bit out.

Grimmjow snarled in response. "I'm not a fucking house cat, Kurosaki! I'm a freaking espada – we don't do lovey-dovey shit. You want romance? Go hook up with that woman of yours. Arrancar don't love." His lips twisted bitterly as he spat the last few words. They had the sound of a well-worn platitude, repeated often enough to engrave acid scars into a heart.

Ichigo shifted closer to him. "That's not always true," he murmured. "Look at Nel – she loves basically everyone she encounters."

"Not the same," Grimmjow spat. His shoulders were hunched as though he was expecting a blow; he flinched when Ichigo laid a hand on them. "Don't deceive yourself, Kurosaki. You'd be better off without me around."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Really? Who told you that?" He kept his tone a shade shy of insulting, hoping to provoke the espada out of his dark mood.

Grimmjow rose to the bait. "Fuck off, kid. No one told me anything." He whirled to face Ichigo, dislodging the substitute shinigami's hand. "No one needed to, alright? It's pretty damn obvious. Those around me have a nasty tendency to end up dead or worse."

"I don't think that's…" Ichigo started to object.

Then a limp body tumbled out of the sky and crashed onto the roof behind them.


	12. Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

**Author's Note:**

As always, a shoutout to Kimikozumi, motorcrosszaha, The Crimson Guy, SoulMore, RSK1066, Cinder Fall 39, and honeyMellon for the lovely reviews!

Now, a PSA from your friendly neighborhood fanfic writer: if you're an American, go vote! The election is in less than three weeks, and it has the potential to be a world-changing one. Every vote matters (and yes, it truly does), so get to those polls! If you're not old enough to vote, tell your older friends and family to do so. If you're not registered to vote, there's still time. I won't tell you who to vote for, though I'm happy to discuss politics via PM, but seriously: go vote!

And now, back to your regularly scheduled programming.

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Decisions, Decisions, Decisions  
**

Ichigo and Grimmjow leapt to their feet, falling naturally into defensive crouches. "What the fuck?" Grimmjow spat. He leveled Pantera's tip at the bloodstained lump, which groaned and raised its head.

Ichigo gasped. "Is that…"

Grimmjow nodded, wrinkling his nose like he'd just bitten into maggot-filled meat. "Yep. Marrok."

"Okay, what the hell is he doing here? And what happened to him?"

"I don't know, and I don't care." Grimmjow took a step closer to the injured arrancar, prodding him with Pantera. The razor-sharp blade added another cut to the dozens on Marrok's broad shoulders, making the arrancar whine under his breath. Grimmjow snorted. "But I'm not complaining." He dug Pantera into the meat of Marrok's shoulder and grinned humorlessly. "Now we can finally get some answers."

Ichigo frowned. "By torturing him?" From the looks of it, someone had already done that. A network of cuts crisscrossed the arrancar's back; his wrists hung at awkward angles. White bone protruded from a nasty break in his left shin, while blood had turned his ivory garments a rusty shade of red. His mask was pitted and cracked, as though splashed with acid, and Ichigo could see more acid burns dotting his limbs. In some places, the muscle had been entirely eaten away, revealing pale bones and tendons.

Ichigo swallowed hard. No one, not even Aizen, deserved this kind of treatment. What sort of monster had done this?

Grimmjow shrugged carelessly. "Nah, torture's a waste of time. If he doesn't talk, I'll just kill him." He forced Pantera's blade in deeper. "What'll it be, Marrok?" He barked a laugh. "Death now, or death later?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes, stepping forward and laying his hand over Grimmjow's. "He's unconscious, idiot. Besides, he can't fight back; killing him isn't honorable."

Grimmjow's incredulous gaze spoke volumes about his opinion of Ichigo's view on honor. "Who the fuck cares? He's an enemy! And trust me, I've learned my lesson about leaving enemies alive." A grimace drifted across his face before he shook his head, banishing the expression. "And he's not unconscious. See?" He lightly kicked Marrok in the kidney, and the battered arrancar mumbled a pained curse.

"Okay, enough." Ichigo forced Grimmjow to withdraw Pantera. "We're not going to get any information this way, and we're not killing an unarmed opponent who can't fight back." He took a closer look at Marrok and gritted his teeth. The arrancar's reiatsu was flickering like a candle in a high wind, barely noticeable. "Besides, it looks like he'll die within the hour, anyway, unless we do something." _Though I don't know why; an arrancar should be able to heal this_. Marrok looked like he'd been dropped into a meat-grinder, but none of his injuries should have been fatal.

Grimmjow spat on the rooftop. "Good riddance." His mouth twisted. "Bet you his own crew did this, too."

Ichigo lifted an eyebrow. "Really? Why would they do that?" The trio had seemed to work together well enough as of the last time he'd seen them; there was no reason for them to turn on each other with Grimmjow still at large.

A low laugh bubbled from Grimmjow's throat as he stared at Marrok's unmoving form. "Hell if I know. But those burns are Arietta's work – one of her damn poisons probably. Or that lightning she can throw, maybe." He shrugged. "Doesn't matter much; it hurts the same either way."

Ichigo shook his head in disgust, lips pressed into a thin line. Every time he thought he'd seen the worst of hollows, they came up with some new depravity.

His hollow snickered. _Don't act so shocked. You shinigami are just as bad, if not worse. You think the Sokyoku is merciful? And look at humans! Remember that girl in the park? At least we only kill our enemies – we don't play with our food_. It paused, then added, _Well, most of us don't, anyway_.

 _Oh, sure, you're all saints_ , Ichigo retorted.

 _We're predators_ , the hollow snapped back. _Grimmjow's a predator, too – just look at him. And that's why you want to screw his brains out, because you're one as well. Sure, you think you've got morals and honor and all that crap, but at heart, you two aren't that different_. Its tone sobered. _We're not monsters, King. You know that_.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. _Most of you are pretty close, though_. He knew it was petty, but he couldn't help it. Apart from Nel – and now Grimmjow – he hadn't met a single hollow that he respected. Even the ones with human intelligence seemed perfectly content to act like barbaric, bloodthirsty beasts.

Uncharacteristically, his hollow didn't reply with something snarky. Instead, it took a deep breath, then said, _King, look inside yourself. You're half hollow; the arrancar are half shinigami. Is there really that much difference between you?_ It paused, and Ichigo could hear echoes of Zangetsu's voice in its tone when it continued speaking. _You should talk to Juushiro and Shunsui sometime about the hollows they've encountered. They've both lived a very long time, and, from what their zanpakuto spirits say, they may have some surprising insights that would interest you_. The blended voices hardened. _The world is not painted in black and white, and treating it as such is foolhardy_.

As Ichigo opened his mouth to protest, Zangetsu stepped in. _Ichigo, what are you truly afraid of? Release your hold on the anger you clutch so close to your chest and listen to your heart_.

"I'm not afraid of anything!" Ichigo snapped back, realizing only too late that he had spoken out loud. Grimmjow snickered, but Ichigo ignored him. _I'm not afraid_ , he repeated mentally.

Zangetsu bowed his head. _If that is true, then what fuels this anger of yours?_

 _I'm angry at the monsters who would torture one of their own!_ Ichigo snapped back. _Isn't that enough?_

Again, Zangetsu nodded. _But that is not the only reason you're angry_ , he pointed out calmly.

The simple comment made Ichigo's temper flare higher. He was in no mood for psychoanalysis, and Zangetsu had an irritating ability to get under Ichigo's skin with his observations. _Fine, I'm also mad at Grimmjow for being a total asshole. Happy?_ he demanded. Experience had taught him that the best way to shut Zangetsu up was to give him what he wanted, which in this case was all too clear.

The old zanpakuto sighed. _No, I'm not, because you aren't_ , he replied soberly. _And you will continue to be unhappy until you face the truth_.

 _Yeah? What truth is that?_ Ichigo spat.

 _The truth staring you in the face_ , Zangetsu replied with a maddening lack of emotion.

 _That's not a fucking answer!_ Ichigo snapped, out of patience. He just wanted a simple straight answer – was that too much to ask?

Zangetsu sighed. _Ichigo_ … Uncharacteristically, he hesitated, taking a deep breath before continuing. _I am not sure that I approve of the former espada_ , he mused, sounding like he was almost talking to himself. _He is brash and arrogant, not to mention rude and reckless. But he_ … Zangetsu paused again, and Ichigo had to bite his tongue to prevent a scream of frustration from escaping his lips. At last his zanpakuto murmured, _Just look at his actions, not his words, and you'll see the truth of his feelings for you_.

Ichigo's shoulders slumped in disappointment. For a moment, it had truly sounded like Zangetsu was going to say something useful, but no – it was just more of the same cryptic bullshit. _That's still not a bloody fucking answer_ , he bit out. _Unless you have something better to tell me, you can just shut up_. He waited a few moments, heart in his mouth, but Zangetsu just sighed wearily.

Ichigo growled a curse under his breath and opened his eyes to find Grimmjow watching him curiously. "You were talking to yourself," the espada pointed out bluntly.

The substitute shinigami grimaced. "Talking to my zanpakuto, actually." He glanced down at Marrok, who shifted slightly on the gravel rooftop and groaned. "As much as I hate to admit it, they had some good points." _Mixed in with all the bullshit and non-answers_.

"They?" Grimmjow propped a hand on his hip, keeping his gaze focused on Ichigo though Pantera still pointed unwaveringly at Marrok.

"It's a long story." Grimmjow's eyebrows arched up, and Ichigo shook his head. "I'll tell you later. Right now, we need to figure out what to do with Marrok." At the sound of his name, the arrancar twitched, mumbling something incoherent as Ichigo continued, "We can't just let him die." He held up a hand to forestall any protests. "I know he's your enemy, but I don't think he's one of the bad guys – he did save that girl, after all."

"Assuming that was actually him," Grimmjow interjected.

Ichigo glared at him. "Fine, he probably saved that girl. Happy?" Grimmjow favored him with an insouciant grin, and Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Anyway, he might have valuable information."

Grimmjow shrugged, rolling his shoulders in a loose, fluid motion. "Fine. But you'd better do something soon; his reiatsu is almost gone."

Ichigo's hand went to his hip, groping for a pocket before he remembered that he was in his soul form. His cell phone was in his jeans, which were on his physical body, which was hopefully – assuming Kon had obeyed him – staying out of trouble. He grimaced. "Dammit. Grimmjow, could you…"

As he trailed off, Grimmjow snorted. "I'll watch Marrok. You go get the woman."

"Her name is Orihime," Ichigo muttered.

Grimmjow barked a laugh. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go get her already!"

* * *

As Ichigo vanished into shunpo, Grimmjow let Pantera's tip drop into the gravel and regarded Marrok with a twisted smile. It was pitiful, really, to see such a strong opponent in such dire straits – the arrancar could barely move.

Pantera chuffed a laugh. _Remind you of anyone?_ Her low, silky voice, absent from his mind while she healed, was a balm against his soul.

Grimmjow shrugged, dropping into a cross-legged seat on the rooftop next to Marrok. _Not really_.

 _Not even Ichigo, after Ulquiorra ripped his heart out?_ she purred slyly.

 _Don't tell me you think he's right to heal him_ , Grimmjow groaned. From a tactical perspective, it made sense – they needed information about the trio's plans, and they couldn't get it if Marrok never woke up. But leaving him alive after interrogation was the height of stupidity. Look at what had happened when he left Arietta alive after their battle! If he had just killed her then, they wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.

 _I think that the shinigami is good for you_ , she retorted, curling her tail around her paws as she settled into a dune within his inner world. _You should listen to him sometimes_.

Grimmjow hesitated. There had been an odd note in her mental voice that he couldn't quite interpret. _So_ … He paused. _You approve of him?_

If she didn't, he didn't know what he would do. She had been his only companion after the death of his mate and cubs, the only thing that kept him sane when he would have gone on a killing spree in search of revenge. She had instead urged him to grow stronger, to accept Aizen's leash until his strength was sufficient to strike out on his own. Even after the deaths of his fraccion, she had counseled patience, and she had been right – he had gotten another shot at Ichigo, and that was all he had wanted at the time.

Pantera's golden eyes narrowed. _You are happier with him than without him_ , she said finally, tail twitching restlessly. _He is more than just a playtoy to you; he might, in time, be a partner. So yes, I approve_.

Grimmjow wanted to protest, to deny that Ichigo meant anything to him, but he couldn't lie to the spirit that shared his soul. So he grimaced. _He's a shinigami, though_ , he pointed out in a dry tone.

She snickered at him. _And what do you think you are? I hate to say it, love, but most hollows don't have someone like me in their minds_. A low purr rumbled from her chest as he made a face. _Face it – you two have a number of similarities_.

Grimmjow ran his fingers down Pantera's blade, ignoring the slight burn as the edge sliced open his fingertips. The cuts sealed instantly as he heaved a sigh. _You don't think it's, well, a bad idea?_ He made a halfhearted attempt to hide his trepidation, but he knew that Pantera could sense the things he left unsaid.

She shrugged, sending a wave of fur rippling down her spine. _It's not up to me_ , she pointed out. He rolled his eyes at her, and her mouth gaped open in a silent laugh. _Fine. No, I don't think it's a bad idea. You need a pack, after all; you've been alone for too long_. Her tone sobered. _Don't let the deaths of your fraccion and family scare you away from the shinigami boy_.

 _Hey!_ Grimmjow retorted, stung. _Who says I'm scared?_

 _Ichigo said much the same thing, for much the same reason_ , Pantera retorted, and Grimmjow winced. It had seemed funny when Ichigo had blurted that out; it wasn't so amusing to be on the receiving end of it.

 _Did you plan this?_ he demanded irritably. Then he paused. _Wait, how could you? Can you talk to other zanpakuto?_ Aizen had never mentioned anything of the sort, but then the man hadn't taught them much of anything. After showing them how to access their resurrection, he'd let them experiment, rewarding those who figured out new tricks and punishing those who failed to get stronger.

Grimmjow made a face. Ulquiorra, of course, had been the best student, never failing to earn Aizen's praise. Grimmjow hadn't done badly, but even his best efforts hadn't topped Ulquiorra's achievements. _Stupid bat_.

 _You're alive, and he's dust_ , Pantera snorted, acid in her tone. _And stop trying to change the subject_.

 _Then answer the question_ , he demanded. _Can you talk to other zanpakuto or not?_ And, if not, how did she know so much about Ichigo? Although zanpakuto spirits could ordinarily see out of their masters' eyes, she had been in a healing coma since the battle with Nel – she shouldn't know anything about the substitute shinigami who'd captured Grimmjow's imagination.

Pantera smirked at him. _What do you think?_ Then, when he growled at her, she relented. _Yes, we can converse, at least some of the time. It's easier when the wielders have a strong emotional bond – which is why I know that he's good for you_. She rolled her eyes. _Though that creature inside him needs a lesson in manners_.

Grimmjow rocked backwards, stunned. _Wait, you mean you really can talk to other zanpakuto? Why didn't you say something before?_ If he'd known that, he might have been able to figure out Ulquiorra's weaknesses.

 _Because there wasn't a reason to_ , she snapped. _Like I said, it's easier when the wielders are close to each other, and it's not like you had a lot of close companions among the other espada_. She wrinkled her nose and rose to her feet, prowling down the dune in his inner world. _Besides, the zanpakuto spirits of your fraccion were simply annoying; I had no desire to talk with them_.

Grimmjow chose to ignore that in favor of the more important question. _So, how much have you been talking to Ichigo's zanpakuto?_ he bit out _._

Pantera sniffed at his grumpy tone. _Not much, really. I haven't told him anything secret, if that's what you're worried about_.

 _That's not… dammit, what have you told him?_ Grimmjow had no idea what Pantera would consider secret, but he didn't trust his zanpakuto's judgement around that particular issue – after all, she had no problem probing him on every topic under the sun, no matter how much he told her that some things were private.

Pantera flicked her tail in casual dismissal. _Just that you, contrary to all appearances, actually do care about the boy. Though you have an awful way of showing it_. She snorted softly. _I haven't been awake for that long, love; it's not like I've had that much time to chat_.

Grimmjow gritted his teeth. _Why did you tell him that? You_ … He trailed off, unable to think of a way to complete the sentence. Anger fought with relief in his veins as he struggled to come up with something to say, some reason to justify his fury.

When he didn't say anything immediately, Pantera took the opportunity out of his hands. _You weren't going to say it, and someone had to_ , she pointed out.

 _That's not… Fuck, Pantera, really? I_ … Again he let the sentence drop. He wasn't mad at his zanpakuto, not really, anyway. She was right – he wouldn't have said anything to Ichigo. And maybe it would be better this way, assuming that the substitute shinigami didn't turn around and laugh at him for his foolish, un-hollow-like emotions. _Then again_ … He really had no guarantee on that. Ichigo had certainly seemed plenty angry when he'd stumbled across Grimmjow – what if he didn't want anything to do with him?

Grimmjow shook his head, dismissing the thought. He was no fluff-brained girl, to fret over a lover's affections; he was a fucking espada, king of the desert. "I am king, you hear me!" he snarled at Marrok's limp form. "King!"

Pantera rolled her eyes. _You are an idiot_ , she informed him crisply.

Before Grimmjow could retort, a surge of reiatsu distracted him. He glanced up to see Ichigo bounding over the rooftops, Orihime cradled in his arms as if she was a delicate princess that he'd just rescued.

A low growl bubbled in Grimmjow's throat. As Ichigo landed, he rose and sauntered over to the teen, not-so-casually brushing his arm against Ichigo's shoulder after he set Orihime down. "So, can you heal him?"

Orihime, unfazed by Grimmjow's brusque tone, took a hard look at Marrok, then smiled and nodded. "I should be able to, no problem!" She tapped the flower clip pinned to her chest and the golden glow of her magic materialized, zooming over to envelop Marrok in a shimmering bubble. "It won't take long at all."

Grimmjow snarled audibly when she turned her megawatt smile on Ichigo. "Don't you have to watch him?" he snapped, stepping a bit closer to the substitute shinigami.

Orihime glanced between the two of them, eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but then a curious expression passed over her face. Pink rose to her cheeks as she blinked, then grinned. "I guess it can't hurt." To Grimmjow's surprise, she sounded pleased about something, and he didn't think it was related to the healing.

He didn't have time to question it, though, as she turned and trotted over to Marrok before he could make his brain form a coherent question. As soon as she knelt down next to the injured arrancar, Ichigo sighed, "Okay, what was that about?" He kept his voice low in an attempt to prevent Orihime from overhearing, but Grimmjow could still hear his annoyance.

The sexta espada shrugged, then nudged Ichigo with his shoulder. "Nothing." His temper had cooled as quickly as it had flared, and he wasn't about to explain the sudden spike of anger to Ichigo – he didn't even understand it himself.

 _Yes, you do_ , Pantera chided patiently. _If you'd stop lying to yourself, this would be a lot easier_.

 _What do you know about it?_ he snarled mentally.

She huffed and lashed her tail, golden eyes flaming with irritation. _More than you do, clearly! Now apologize to the shinigami for disrespecting his friend_. Her tone brooked no disagreement.

Grimmjow hung his head, exhaling heavily. "Sorry," he muttered, almost too softly to hear. _Satisfied?_

She shrugged, and he got the sense that she was laughing at him. _Better. Now tell him why you were mad so you can kiss and make up_.

Now that was going too far. Grimmjow was willing to listen to Pantera when she made sense, but admitting that he had been mad because of how Ichigo had been carrying Orihime? That was just plain stupid. The shinigami would think he was a total moron for feeling that way, or – worse – think he was weak.

 _He knows that you're not weak_ , his zanpakuto interjected wearily. _But if you want to maintain a relationship with him, you're going to have to work at it and not blow up at everything. Sometimes, that means explaining why you're mad_.

 _How do you know so much about relationships, anyway?_ Grimmjow demanded, out of patience. _You're a part of me!_

 _Not_ … She hesitated. _Precisely. I'm a part of you, but I'm also separate_. She tipped her head to one side, staring up at the moon in his inner world – unlike the one in Hueco Mundo, it was always full _. I don't think Aizen intended it to be this way; I think he simply wanted the zanpakuto to be receptacles for the arrancar's power. But… Do you remember Lilynette? She was Starrk's zanpakuto, but she was also her own person. He was a unique case, but in some ways that's how all zanpakuto are_. She shook her head, ruffling her fur. _But that's not important right now. Stop talking to me and talk to your boyfriend, dammit!_

If he didn't obey, she would kick him out of his inner world – she'd done it before, when he got too depressed, and her tone threatened to do so again. So he pulled his attention back to the living world, where Ichigo was waiting with an impatient look on his face. "Well?"

Grimmjow took a deep breath. "Ididn'tlikeitwhenyoucarriedOrihime," he blurted out in a rush.

Ichigo blinked at him. "What?"

"I didn't like it when you carried Orihime," Grimmjow muttered, slower this time.

Ichigo scowled, then his eyes lightened. He glanced over at Orihime, who was engrossed in her healing, then looked back at Grimmjow. "That's…" He shrugged. "Oh, screw it."

Then, before Grimmjow could react, Ichigo grabbed the espada's collar and yanked him into a kiss. For a second, Grimmjow was too stunned to respond, but that didn't last long. As Ichigo pulled him closer, Grimmjow snarled and thrust his tongue into the teen's mouth. Ichigo gasped.

When he finally broke the kiss, the substitute shinigami's lips were slightly swollen and his face was flushed. "Better now?" he asked dryly. Then, before Grimmjow could respond, he went on, "Listen… I like you. I won't say you're mine, though my hollow wants me to, but…" He paused and swiped a hand over his face. "Well…" His face turned redder as he struggled to find the words.

Grimmjow took a deep breath. "I…" He swore under his breath. "Fuck it, Ichigo… I like you too, alright?" A snarl threatened to rise from his throat as he grabbed Ichigo's hips and yanked him in so they were nose to nose. "If you won't say it, I will – you're mine, Kurosaki." He practically growled the last words. In the back of his mind, Pantera cheered.

Things might have gotten rather heated had Orihime not coughed politely. "Um, guys?" She held up her hand like a student asking for their teacher's attention. "You… might want to come over here." Her cheeks were bright pink, but she managed to keep a straight face as she gave them both a smile.

"What is it, wom… uh, Orihime?" Grimmjow demanded irritably, releasing his grip on Ichigo's waist. Ichigo gave him an approving look.

She gestured for them to come closer. "Look. He's healing, but not nearly as quickly as he should." As they strode over to her, she frowned thoughtfully. "And I can feel traces of foreign reiatsu in his bloodstream – they're especially strong around his worst wounds, though they've spread throughout his body. It's as if the reiatsu is a virus that's attacking his immune system." Her frown deepened as she glanced up at Grimmjow. "And you know what's even weirder? It's the exact same power that I sensed in you when I was healing your shoulder."

Grimmjow knelt next to Marrok, scowling at the orange glow over the arrancar's body. He couldn't see clearly, but it looked like Marrok's smaller wounds had closed. But the worst burns and cuts still gaped, white bone gleaming obscenely through slashed muscle. "What do you mean, the same reiatsu? How is that possible?"

Orihime rested her hands on the shield, sending more power into it. "I don't know, but it's definitely the same."

Ichigo scowled at the unconscious arrancar, but addressed his next remark to Grimmjow. "Didn't you say that his injuries were caused by Arietta?"

Grimmjow nodded, then shrugged. "Most of them, anyway. The acid burns? Those are hers, for sure. Some of the puncture wounds are probably from Kinderras's sai, though; Arietta's zanpakuto takes the form of a scimitar." He gestured towards one particularly deep wound. "See that? That's no scimitar blow." The broad, curved blade that Arietta wielded was a slashing weapon, not a stabbing one. But Kinderras's sai, which resembled miniature tridents with an elongated center prong, were perfect for jabbing through skin and muscle.

Ichigo spread his fingers out over Orihime's shield as he leaned in for a closer look. "Okay, so Kinderras did some damage too. But, if the main injuries were caused by Arietta, wouldn't it make sense for the reiatsu to be hers as well?"

Orihime started at that. "This Arietta – you said she caused the acid burns? How?"

Grimmjow made a face. "She's got all sorts of nasty tricks up her sleeve," he snarled. "Acid, poison, various alchemical substances… she's almost as bad as Szayel with that stuff." It was a cowardly way to fight in his opinion – what sort of warrior used potions to beat their enemies? It was cheating, nothing more.

Unexpectedly, Orihime smiled. "That makes sense," she murmured, peering down at Marrok. "I bet she gave him a poison to slow down his natural healing, and I bet she did the same thing to you. See how all of his lesser wounds are gone? It's as if the poison, or kido, or whatever, is concentrated around the worst ones, preventing them from closing while ignoring the ones that could never be fatal."

"But she never gave me anything," Grimmjow objected.

Orihime shook her head. "She wouldn't have to. I bet her body produces that sort of poison naturally, as a defense against predators. You must have ingested it when you fought her – you ate a piece of her wing, right?" Grimmjow nodded reluctantly as Orihime continued, "It must not activate until you get seriously wounded, when it has the best chance of killing you."

"It's an ingenious defense."

All three of them jumped. Grimmjow was the first to recover from his surprise, spinning and stabbing Pantera into Urahara's face. "Don't do that, shinigami!" he spat.

Urahara leaned on his cane and smiled casually. "Truly, it's ingenious," he remarked, ignoring the sword tip an inch away from his nose. "It must be modeled on the poisons of poison arrow frogs and other such creatures, but it's a distinct upgrade."

Ichigo put a hand on Grimmjow's arm and guided Pantera down. "What do you want, Hat and Clogs?" he demanded.

Urahara's expression sobered. "I think I know what your friends are planning," he announced.

"They're not my friends," Grimmjow interrupted.

The former captain ignored him. "But, first, since you have one of them here, I'd like to hear what he has to say." Urahara's lips twitched. "Good job finding him, by the way."

"He kinda landed in our laps," Ichigo muttered, tone laden with frustration. Grimmjow could sympathize – were they never going to get a moment of peace? Not that he had truly been enjoying their conversation before Marrok had fallen out of the sky, but it was the principle of the thing.

Orihime, who had returned to her healing as soon as she recognized Urahara, glanced up. "I think he's stable," she told them all, summoning her power back into her hairclips. "He'll need more care, but I think I'll overstress his systems if I try to heal him all at once – that poison of Arietta's is nasty. It'll be better if it works its way out of his system over time." Her voice was calm and confident despite Grimmjow's increasingly irritated glare, but he could sense a thread of nervousness in her reiatsu. He took a step backwards.

Urahara tapped his cane on the ground. "Can you wake him up?"

Before Orihime could respond, Marrok twitched and groaned. Slowly, as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, he raised his head. "What… where…" His eyes fastened on Grimmjow and he bared his teeth. Though his reiatsu flickered alarmingly, he forced himself into a sitting position. "What did you do to me?"

Grimmjow huffed. "Ungrateful much? We healed your ass, moron." He chose to ignore Ichigo's eye-roll at his tone.

Marrok's head swung around. "What?" His hand groped along the ground, searching for his zanpakuto. When it came up empty, he growled, "Where's Ursus?"

Grimmjow shrugged negligently. "Don't know, don't care. What the hell are you doing here?"

Orihime shot him a quelling look and reached out towards Marrok, who stared at her hand like he'd never seen a human limb before. "Ignore him," she urged. "You're safe now. What happened to you?" She offered him a gentle smile, eyes bright and inviting.

"I…" Marrok coughed, doubling over and holding his ribs. Fresh blood spattered his already-stained garments as the hacking went on and on, but he waved away Urahara's offer of a water bottle. "Kinderras," he finally managed. "Bastard…" His eyes lit on Ichigo, and his reiatsu flared with fear. "They…" Coughing interrupted him again. "They… have them."

"Have who?" It was Urahara who asked the question that was on all of their minds.

"Can't… hurt…" Marrok took a shuddering breath. "Cubs." Ichigo's brows rose, and the battered arrancar managed a faint smile. "Not all… evil… you know."

It wasn't an answer to Urahara's question, but Grimmjow could sense that Marrok's mind was wandering. If he'd been in the desert, the scent of that broken reiatsu would have made him tantalizing prey, but Grimmjow restrained himself. The dazed confusion was probably due to Arietta's poison, anyway, and Grimmjow had no desire to ingest it again. Still, Marrok's mention of cubs had him on edge. "What cubs?" he snapped.

Marrok's head fell forward, then drifted back upright. "Yours…" he murmured, staring right at Ichigo. "The little ones… in house…"

"Yuzu! Karin!" Ichigo exclaimed, eyes widening with panic.

Urahara laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Ichigo; you'll get them back." He turned to Marrok. "Is that right? Arietta and Kinderras have Ichigo's sisters?"

Marrok nodded slowly. "And… older man. Arietta…"

Ichigo bared his teeth, reiatsu flaring into a maelstrom around him. "Fuck!" He spun on his heel to face Urahara. "Get us to Hueco Mundo, Hat and Clogs," he demanded hotly. "Now!"


	13. Into the Desert

**Author's Note:**

Happy election day, everyone! If you haven't voted yet, go vote; if you have, thank you. Whoever wins this election has the potential to change the world... I just hope they don't start World War 3 while they're at it.

So, if you, like me, are going to be staying up late tonight and watching with bated breath to see who wins, here's a chapter to enjoy while you wait.

And, of course, a shoutout to all my lovely reviewers: Kimikozumi, Junichiblue, SoulMore, RSK1066, honeyMellon, and LittleFoxDemon!

* * *

 **Chapter 13: Into the Desert**

Urahara sighed and tapped his cane on the ground. "Ichigo…"

"Just do it!" Ichigo interrupted, fists clenched at his sides.

Urahara lifted his eyebrows, shooting a quelling look at the teenager. "Rushing in without all the information is foolish," he admonished. "Besides, if my theories are correct, your sisters are perfectly safe for another…" He checked his watch. "…four hours. Given that, it'd be prudent to make a solid plan."

"You'd better be right," Ichigo grumbled.

Grimmjow cast a skeptical glance at the substitute shinigami. Ichigo's hands clenched and unclenched convulsively, as though eager to grasp the hilt of his zanpakuto; his weight shifted restlessly from side to side. The espada couldn't blame him – had it been cubs from his pack who had been kidnapped, he'd be just as impatient. _In fact, I'm surprised he isn't arguing more_. Considering the reckless way that he'd charged in to rescue Orihime, Grimmjow would have expected him to immediately leap into action.

 _He's growing up_ , Pantera observed, peering through Grimmjow's eyes. _Remember how hotheaded he was when you rammed your hand through that female shinigami? He's gotten more sensible since then, it seems_. Her tone held a faint trace of surprise.

Grimmjow bared his teeth in a grin. _Bet you his patience doesn't last ten minutes_.

Pantera's presence shifted behind his eyes before she snorted. _I'm not taking that bet_ , she declared, and he laughed.

Ichigo glanced over, a silent question in his eyes, and Grimmjow shook his head. Ichigo rolled his eyes. "You know, you could take us to Hueco Mundo," he murmured, stepping closer to Grimmjow. Pantera snickered.

Grimmjow glanced over at Urahara, who he suspected was perfectly able to listen to two conversations at once, and scowled. "Not without him stopping me," he pointed out. Though the former captain knelt next to Marrok, busy questioning him, Grimmjow had no illusions about the privacy of their current conversation.

Ichigo's lips thinned. "Fuck. Fine." He strode towards Urahara. "Hat and Clogs, what the hell is going on?"

Urahara rocked back on his heels and looked up at Ichigo. "Ask Marrok." Despite Ichigo's furious reiatsu swirling around them, the former captain's spirit energy remained as placid as a lake on a still day. Grimmjow had to admire that level of control – it was a bit scary, actually. Despite his best efforts, his own spirit energy surged around him in response to Ichigo's temper, edging him with a halo of blue to those with the eyes to see it.

 _If you don't get it under control, you're going to squish that arrancar_ , Pantera pointed out acerbically.

Grimmjow glanced over at Marrok and scowled. His zanpakuto was right – the injured arrancar gasped for air as the remnants of his own reiatsu flickered around him – but he didn't like to admit that. _Fine_. The blue fire haloing him subsided as he took a deep breath, pulling his energy back under his skin.

Marrok smiled faintly. "Thanks."

"I didn't do it for you," Grimmjow snapped.

Orihime opened her mouth to reply, spreading her hands peaceably, but Ichigo beat her to it. "Play nice," he ordered. Then, without waiting for Grimmjow's answer, he turned to Marrok. "Why did your friends take my family?"

"So much for being nice," Grimmjow muttered sardonically. The teen's voice held a hefty dose of anger; he had practically growled the last few words. His control over his reiatsu, never good to begin with, was clearly hanging by a thread.

Somehow, though, he kept a tenuous grasp on his temper as Marrok took a deep breath. "I…" He hesitated. "Do not know for sure. But…" As Ichigo's face reddened with anger, Marrok slowly raised his head. "They are either bait or sacrifice."

"Sacrifice?" Ichigo growled, one hand coming up to grip Zangetsu's hilt as he took a step closer to Marrok. "What do you mean, sacrifice?"

"It… they have…" A fit of coughing interrupted him. When he was able to breathe again, he continued, "They have a book, a spellbook from Las Noches…"

Orihime blanched. "Wait, what? You mean…" She turned to Urahara, chocolate eyes wide with fear. "I thought you had taken everything dangerous out of there!" Her fingers tangled in her skirt as she stared at the former captain, fear scent rising off her body.

Urahara waved his fan nonchalantly, not quite meeting her eyes. "Well, Kurotsuchi got there first," he demurred. "And, while we did our best to excavate as much as possible, there were large sections that had been reduced to rubble, and the denizens of the desert did not take kindly to our presence." He offered them all a sheepish smile. "Still, I truly did think that we'd gotten everything of importance."

Orihime's hands clenched in her skirt as she inhaled sharply. Grimmjow could hear the way her heart fluttered in her chest – in another time and place, it would have made him hungry. But then she let the air out slowly, and palpably calmed down. "Do you know what's in the book?" She glanced between Marrok and Urahara, a mixture of emotions playing across her face. When Urahara shook his head, she hunched her shoulders. "See, Ulquiorra told me a bit about some of Aizen's experiments." Though she faltered briefly over the fourth espada's name, she quickly went on. "He was doing some horrible stuff in those labs – mostly with Szayelaporro's help. Ulquiorra said they had half a dozen labs scattered around. He wasn't satisfied with just creating new arrancar; he wanted to make them practically invincible. Ulquiorra said that some of the results were, well, monstrous." As all eyes settled on her, she blushed. "That's all I know, I'm afraid."

"Yes…" The harsh croak came from Marrok. "Arietta found one of those labs, underneath a pile of blasted rubble." A dull flush spread over Ichigo's face as Marrok continued, "She can read, at least a bit; she found a book." His voice cracked on the last word, and he paused to take several panting breaths. Orihime hurried to his side, golden glow surrounding her fingers, but he waved her off. "I'll be fine." His gaze drifted back to Ichigo. "It told her how to absorb power from others."

"I thought arrancar could already do that," Ichigo interrupted.

Marrok swung his heavy head up and down once in affirmation. "But not as this ritual did. We…" He sighed. "Eating other hollows helps us get stronger, to a point. But after that, it is useless." A trace of sorrow drifted across his face.

Grimmjow snorted impatiently. "We eat others, we get stronger. But your evolution stops at some point, and then you don't really need to eat much – it's fun, sure, but not that necessary unless you use a lot of energy." That had been what had happened to his fraccion, back when they were all adjuchas together – their evolution had slowed to a stop. He'd been skeptical then, knowing in his bones that he could keep growing stronger, but time had proven to him that his fraccion, at least, had reached their limits. _And, judging by Marrok's expression, I'm guessing he reached his, and didn't like it_.

Urahara's eyes narrowed. "So this ritual that you mentioned… it allows hollows to evolve past their natural final state?"

Marrok's shoulder lifted in a partial shrug. "That's what Arietta said. I never saw it myself."

"Uh-huh…" Grimmjow muttered skeptically. What self-respecting arrancar would take another hollow's word on something as important as this? Mistrust was bred into their flesh, and honed to a keen edge by Aizen's so-called training. Accepting another hollow's words as truth was foolhardy.

 _And what would you do, if presented with a book of spells?_ Pantera inquired, an odd gentleness to her tone.

Grimmjow opened his mouth, then hastily closed it. _Ah… right_. He really should have paid more attention to Gin's lessons. A book of spells would be so much ink on a page to him, worse than useless. _But seriously, how was I supposed to know that reading would be useful someday? It's so boring!_ Pantera snorted.

Marrok sighed. "She wanted help, but she was the only one who could do the ritual, she said. She needed us to help her capture a sacrifice – the stronger, the better." His shoulders slumped, and his muzzle drooped towards his chest. "She said we'd all share the power. But…" A sharp cough racked his body, and he spat blood onto the rooftop. "…she didn't say anything about cubs..."

Orihime frowned, then rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Alright, that's enough talking for right now. You're clearly not healed enough." Despite the fear-scent that Grimmjow could still detect rising from her body, her posture and voice were free of tension.

"I'm…" The word came out half-choked, and Marrok sighed. "Fine." As Orihime's power enveloped him again, the lines of pain etched on his face eased perceptibly.

"So, what's this ritual supposed to do, exactly?" Ichigo demanded.

Orihime lifted her eyebrows at him. "You can ask more questions in a few minutes," she reprimanded. Grimmjow hid a smile at the way Ichigo immediately backed down at her admonishing look. She didn't even bother staring him down, returning her attention to her patient as soon as she finished her sentence. _Girl's got spirit, gotta give her that_.

Urahara chuckled. "Very well. But I believe I can provide at least a partial answer." He rested his hands on his cane. "You see, Sosuke…" A wry smile darted across his face. "Well, he never had much of an imagination. He was a brilliant tactician, but his creativity was a bit lacking. Ironic, really, considering his possession of the Hogyoku, but there you have it." He bowed his head, tone growing serious. "That was our saving grace in the Winter War, truth be told. Had he not been so sure of his overwhelming power, had he thought to consider other paths to victory, we could easily have fallen." The former captain shook his head and resumed a cheerful expression. "But that's Sosuke for you. Everything was about power for him."

"Get to the point," Grimmjow growled. Did all shinigami talk this much? It was enough to drive a self-respecting arrancar insane.

Urahara flapped a hand at him. "I'm getting there! Anyway, I can almost guarantee that this ritual is nothing more than a fancy attempt at power transference. As Grimmjow explained, there's a limit to how much power an ordinary hollow can absorb. Furthermore, they don't absorb all of the power of the creatures that they eat – if my experiments are correct, they absorb, at maximum, approximately thirty percent. And," He held up a finger, "much of that dissipates over time. This is why hollow power growth is not exponential. In fact, at the higher levels, it appears to exponentially slow."

Grimmjow snarled low in his throat. "Is this important?" he demanded. The former captain was undeniably brilliant, but he took far too long to explain anything. The constant tangents into scientific theory might have been interesting if they had had more time, but right now Grimmjow had less than no patience for them.

Urahara sighed. "Yes, it is, but I'll cut to the chase. To make a long story short, I suspect that this ritual allows a hollow to absorb power from anyone – human, hollow, or shinigami – and keep it indefinitely. This, of necessity, involves the sacrifice of the power donor; in all likelihood it is done in a rather gruesome fashion."

Ichigo paled, and Grimmjow couldn't blame him. "So…" The teen took a shaky breath. "Why'd you say that they'd be safe for another four hours?" If his voice shook slightly on the last words, no one acknowledged it.

Urahara dipped his head down. "Kido rituals of this kind are tied to the natural flows of the world. In this case, to moonrise and moonset. Either would be a suitable time to perform it, but moonrise is sooner, so I suspect these arrancar will choose it if they can."

"How sure are you?" Ichigo demanded, taking a step closer to his mentor.

The former captain offered him a reassuring smile. "Quite sure. You have time, Ichigo, don't worry. Plus, I doubt that they will sacrifice your sisters – as humans, they simply don't have much power. They will want the biggest prey that they can find." Ichigo blanched at the captain's clinical tone, though he nodded reluctantly in agreement.

Grimmjow snorted. "So, me or Ichigo." Now things were starting to fall into place – this must be why the trio had wanted to capture him alive. The ritual would be useless if he bled out before they could perform it; they would need a living body if they wanted power.

"You." The croaked comment, almost inaudible, came from Marrok. Orihime gave him a scolding look and pushed his shoulders back down, but he didn't stop talking. "Arietta insisted… had to be you."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Fuck, of course she did. Bitch." She probably wanted revenge on him for defeating her. He bared his teeth. _She should be grateful I let her live at all_.

Urahara tapped his closed fan against his palm. "Now, why would she be so fixated on Grimmjow?" he mused, directing the question to no one in particular. "If she wanted vengeance," he glanced over at Grimmjow, clearly recalling what Grimmjow had told him about the female arrancar, "it would make more sense for her to gain as much power as possible and then seek you out. Why come after you now, before getting stronger?"

Grimmjow spat on the rooftop. "Cause she's an idiot," he snarled. "Too stupid to realize that I did her a favor by letting her live." _Stupid bitch_.

"No, I don't think that's it," Urahara murmured, studying his fan like it could provide all the answers. Then he frowned. "What's the power structure like in Hueco Mundo now that Aizen is gone?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Well, most of the espada are dead, and good riddance." He spat again on the rooftop. "Starrk's still around, but he doesn't do anything, just mopes in his tower in Las Noches. Harribel is probably the strongest after him, and she's been assembling a new band of female arrancar." It galled him to admit that anyone was stronger than him, but both Starrk and Harribel had been vasto lordes before becoming arrancar – their power easily outmatched his.

Urahara's eyes widened in surprise briefly, then narrowed. "Interesting…" he murmured.

Grimmjow wrinkled his nose like he'd smelled something foul. "Does it matter?" After Starrk and Harribel, he was easily the strongest of the remaining arrancar – Barragan was ash, Ulquiorra had dissolved into dust, and Nnoitra had bled out in the sands.

 _You're forgetting Nel_ , Pantera pointed out.

 _Whatever_ , Grimmjow muttered back. _She's not a proper arrancar anyway, she doesn't count_. Sure, she had beaten him, but that had just been luck, nothing more.

 _If you think you truly believe that, you're fooling yourself_ , Pantera snorted acerbically.

Grimmjow ignored her. "So, does it matter or not?" he repeated.

After a long pause, Urahara sighed. "I suppose not," he conceded, playing with his fan.

"What are you thinking, Hat and Clogs?" Ichigo asked suspiciously, eyes narrowed. "And don't tell me nothing. I know you too well; you're clearly thinking something."

Urahara's teeth flashed in a brief smile. "Only that it's odd for Arietta to focus on Grimmjow to the exclusion of everything else. It would have been far smarter for her to find lesser prey first, increase her strength that way, and then come after him. After all, he was the sixth-ranked espada, while she was just an arrancar. Surely she must have known that she couldn't face him."

Orihime glanced up from Marrok at that. "How do you know she didn't?" she asked practically.

Grimmjow nodded slowly. "She did seem way stronger than she should have been," he told Urahara, frowning.

Urahara's eyebrows drew together as he nodded. "That would make sense," he murmured, eyes pensive. Then he smiled. "But I suppose it's not actually important right now, so long as you're cognizant of her increased strength."

"Okay, so if it's not important, can we get going?" Ichigo demanded. "My sisters are out there, Hat and Clogs!" He was practically vibrating with impatience, shifting his weight from foot to foot as though about to leap into flight.

Urahara shrugged. "I don't see a reason why not. I assume the two of you will be going?" Ichigo nodded, while Grimmjow bit back a snarky remark in favor of a curt nod.

Neither of them noticed Orihime standing up and smoothing down her skirt until she spoke. "I'm coming too," she announced, propping her hands on her hips. Her dark eyes blazed as she stared steadily at both of them, lips pressed into a firm line.

"Orihime, you can't, it's too dangerous," Ichigo began, unwisely in Grimmjow's opinion. He could feel the determination radiating from Orihime, and there was nothing yielding about it – she wasn't going to back down on this.

Orihime thrust her chin out and glared at Ichigo. "Too dangerous? I know perfectly well that it's dangerous, but I'm still going. If it's that dangerous, you'll need a healer." She tapped the pins on her chest. "If you really think I'm going to let you go out there alone, you're crazy."

"I won't be alone!" Ichigo protested. "I'll be with Grimmjow!"

Orihime lifted her eyebrow. "And what'll he do if you get hurt?" She folded her arms across her chest. "Neither of you are healers, and the last time you went to Hueco Mundo you ended up mostly dead half a dozen times." Her eyes darkened. "I was useless then. I'm not going to be useless now." Her hands clenched into fists as her spirit energy flared. It tasted of old pain and frustration overlaid on a solid core of resolve, with just a hint of fear.

He snorted. If she was scared now, she'd fall apart in Hueco Mundo. "Ichigo's right. You should stay behind," he told her. They didn't need to be dragging a helpless girl around with them; they'd have enough trouble protecting the hostages after they rescued them.

Some of his thoughts must have been evident on his face, for Orihime narrowed her eyes. "I'm not helpless and I don't need your protection," she told him flatly. "I can take care of myself." She tapped her pins with one finger and a shimmering golden shield sprang into existence in front of her. Grimmjow jerked backwards, startled, and she nodded. "Nothing can get through this – I've been practicing. I can protect myself." When Ichigo opened his mouth to argue further, she added, "Plus, I can protect your sisters while you fight. Do you really want to leave them vulnerable while you're distracted by your opponents?"

"She's right," Urahara murmured, tipping his hat down so it shaded his eyes. "That shield is basically impermeable now; even Benihime can't pierce it." He offered the fact casually, as though it was of little importance, but Ichigo's eyes widened.

"Really?" He shook his head. "Still… Orihime, it'll be…"

"Dangerous?" she interrupted. He flushed, and she grinned. "You said that already." Her expression softened. "Ichigo, think about it. What if your sisters are injured? What if your father is injured? Wouldn't it be better to have a healer there immediately? Your sisters are only human – they can't survive the kinds of injuries that you can."

"Neither can you," Ichigo muttered, sounding defeated.

Orihime smiled. "That's why I have my shields! Trust me, I'm not planning on getting into any combat. I know my offensive powers are fairly weak in comparison to yours; I don't need to play the hero. But you need me there."

Grimmjow made a face. "We won't wait for you if you fall behind," he warned. "Hueco Mundo is no place for weaklings." Her reiatsu still smelled faintly of fear – did they really have to bring her? She was just going to be a liability.

Orihime took a deep breath, then pressed her lips together. "Grimmjow, I am not a fucking damsel in distress. Stop treating me like one." Ichigo, who had squeaked at her use of the f-word, spluttered incoherently, while Urahara hid a grin behind his fan.

Grimmjow chuckled. "Well, keep that attitude up, and maybe you'll do okay there," he allowed.

Ichigo threw his hands in the air. "I clearly don't get a say in this, do I?"

Orihime smiled sweetly at him. "Now you're getting it." She turned to Urahara. "Can you please open a portal to Hueco Mundo?"

Grimmjow half expected the former captain to challenge her decision. After all, her only experience with Hueco Mundo had been as a prisoner in Las Noches – she'd never traversed the deadly sands or fought her way through the desert guardians. She was no fighter; she didn't even have any weapons on her. But Urahara simply smiled at her. "I could," he acknowledged, "but we do have an arrancar here with us." He turned to Grimmjow. "Would you do the honors?"

As Grimmjow blinked in surprise, Pantera hummed her approval. _I like this shinigami_ , she told him, lashing her tail back and forth. _He is sensible_.

 _He's a conniving bastard_ , Grimmjow muttered mentally, but it wasn't entirely an insult. The former captain was almost as tricky as a hollow. If he reminded Grimmjow a little too much of Aizen – and he did – Grimmjow didn't get the same sense of arrogant disdain for the world from him. Aizen would never have trusted an espada to open a garganta for him, for instance; he always had to be in control of everything. Urahara, on the other hand, evinced no signs of trepidation when asking Grimmjow to create the garganta, though he must have known that Grimmjow could easily dump the entire group into the most dangerous places in Hueco Mundo had he been so inclined.

That trust shook Grimmjow, but he was determined not to show it, so he nodded and raised Pantera. Then he paused. "Wait, where are we going? And who all is coming?"

Urahara leaned on his cane. "I'm too old to go on pleasure jaunts to Hueco Mundo," he informed them all, eyes twinkling. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on Marrok, make sure he keeps healing properly."

"Too old my ass," Ichigo muttered. "You just don't want to leave that damn experiment of yours." Despite his words, the substitute shinigami didn't sound too annoyed or surprised.

Urahara tipped his hat up and gave the teen an innocent look. "What? It's at a very delicate stage right now!" He flipped his fan open. "Just promise you'll bring that book back for me to study."

Ichigo flapped a hand at him. "Sure, sure, whatever."

Grimmjow watched the exchange with bemusement. Was the former captain seriously going to trust him to guide the group through Hueco Mundo on his own? Sure, Ichigo could more than take care of himself, but Orihime was basically a hostage situation waiting to happen. _What the hell is he thinking? No self-respecting hollow would think that this was a good idea_ … Shinigami were endlessly confusing.

However, he still didn't have an answer to his first question, so he repeated it. "Where are we going?" This time, he looked straight at Marrok, whose head was nodding back and forth as though he was staying awake by sheer willpower alone.

The battered arrancar coughed and spat, then sighed. "You know the crystal forest, the edge near the salt flats?" When Grimmjow nodded, Marrok grimaced. "There's a spire of rock near there. That's…" He coughed again. "That's where Arietta wanted to do it."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes. The description sounded familiar – too familiar, in fact. He knew Hueco Mundo fairly well, but this place in particular struck a chord in his memory. Had something memorable happened there? It was nowhere near his former den or the hunting grounds of his pack, so it couldn't be related to that; nor was it near Las Noches. _Pantera, do you remember that place?_ he asked silently.

She shook her head, sending a ripple down her fur. _I don't think so, though I might recognize it when we get there_ , she told him.

Grimmjow sighed. _Guess it doesn't matter_. He spun to face the group. "I can get us there," he informed them, "but I don't know who claims that territory now, so when we get there we gotta be quiet. No noise, as little reiatsu showing as possible."

Orihime swallowed hard. "Won't they notice us as soon as the garganta opens, anyway?" she asked softly.

Grimmjow lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. "That's a chance we have to take. I'll open the garganta in the crystal forest, so we aren't too close, but if they're paying attention they might still sense it." She paled, and he fixed her with a gimlet stare. "There's still time to back out," he informed her coolly. "We don't need any liabilities on this mission."

She folded her arms across her chest. "I'm going." Stubbornness flashed in her dark eyes, overwhelming any hint of nervousness.

"Fine. On your own head be it," Grimmjow muttered. He wasn't foolish enough to start the argument again, especially when he had a sneaking suspicion that the result would be an even-more-humiliating defeat. _But if she gets herself hurt by trying to play the hero, that's her own damn fault_.

Grimmjow glanced over at Ichigo and made a face. _Unfortunately, she's not going to be the one who gets hurt – we will, when we have to protect her. Damn it_. He shook his head. "That shield of yours had better be as powerful as you say it is," he growled. "As soon as we get into Hueco Mundo, put it up and keep it up."

Orihime nodded, a solemn look on her face. "I will."

Grimmjow studied her face for a moment, taking in her wide brown eyes and gentle, smiling mouth. She wore the same expression she'd had when he had ordered her to heal Ichigo after Ulquiorra ripped his heart out. He sighed. "You'd better." She nodded again, and he made a face. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

* * *

When the blackness of the garganta began to lighten, Ichigo expected to see rolling sand dunes stretching as far as the eye could see, but a far stranger sight met his eye. Instead of gentle, wind-sculpted dunes, the portal opened up into a shimmering crystalline forest. Strange, spiky trees that glittered in the moonlight surrounded them, branches interlocking to cast dappled patterns across the sandy ground. Ichigo reached out to touch one of the twigs and drew back with a hiss, staring at the blood welling up from his finger.

Grimmjow snorted. "I wouldn't feed the forest my blood if I were you," he informed the teen dryly. "You might not like what happens."

Ichigo glanced over at the espada, eyes widening. "Wait, you mean…" He trailed off. What the hell did Grimmjow mean?

Grimmjow barked a harsh laugh. "The forest has guardians, just like the dunes do, and they hunger for fresh blood. Don't wake them."

Ichigo stuck his finger in his mouth and made a face. "You could have warned us," he grumbled. "I wasn't expecting a forest, alright?" He hadn't even known that Hueco Mundo had forests; he had thought that it was one massive, never-ending desert. That was certainly what he'd encountered when rescuing Orihime, and none of the shinigami had ever mentioned otherwise. _Do any of them even know that this exists?_

He asked Grimmjow as much, and the espada shook his head. "Nope, don't think so. Maybe some of the oldest captains do, but I doubt it. This is ours, and only ours." He bared his teeth.

A soft susurration of wind brushed through the trees, making them rattle against each other like dry bones, and Orihime jumped. "Um, guys, shouldn't we be going somewhere?" she asked softly, casting a nervous glance at the sky. "I think…" She gulped, and didn't finish the sentence.

Ichigo looked up in time to see a massive shadow soar in between them and the moon. It was vaguely bat-shaped, reminiscent of Ulquiorra's second resurrection, but significantly larger. He swallowed and reached up to grip the hilt of his zanpakuto. "What the hell is that?" he whispered.

Grimmjow glanced up as well, then shrugged. "No clue. I've never seen one up close." He shook his head. "Not that I want to."

Ichigo grimaced. "I hope it stays far, far away." Even at this distance, he could sense a faint tingle of malevolent spiritual pressure; he didn't want to feel that up close.

 _Wow, King, you're finally admitting that something might be more powerful than you?_ his hollow drawled sardonically. _Well done_.

 _Oh, shut up_ , Ichigo grumbled back. As the hollow sniggered, Ichigo glanced at Grimmjow. "So, where are we going?"

Grimmjow flung out a hand. "This way." He unsheathed Pantera and leaned forward, eyes ablaze. "You ready to run?" The challenge in his voice was unmistakable.

Ichigo grinned, blood pumping faster as his reiatsu rose in response. "Let's do this!"

* * *

They raced through the forest, darting around trees and using the branches as stepping stones when the trunks grew too close together. Much to Ichigo's surprise, Orihime kept up without complaint, using her smaller size to dart through gaps that would have slashed Grimmjow and Ichigo to ribbons. Whenever he looked back, she was right behind him, eyes shining with determination as she leapt from shadow to shadow.

Ahead of him, Grimmjow was a pale blur, practically dancing through the darkness. He brushed past the crystal branches as though they were nothing more than wooden twigs, heedless of the razor-sharp edges almost brushing his skin at every step. The sight made Ichigo's mouth grow dry, but he firmly forced his mind back to business – he could admire Grimmjow later.

 _If you survive_ , his hollow reminded him.

Ichigo grimaced. _We survived worse than this_ , he reminded it, quickening his steps a touch. First the mission to rescue Rukia, which had seemed doomed to fail, and then the suicide mission into the heart of Las Noches itself to rescue Orihime. Compared to those, this should be a cakewalk.

So why did he have a sinking feeling that they were walking straight into a trap?

All too soon, they broke out of the cover of the trees onto a bleached white expanse of sand. The ivory color was eerily reminiscent of old bone, making Ichigo shiver; the dry breeze carried a hint of the coppery tang of blood. Dark, foreign power hung heavy in the air.

Straight ahead of them, a dark spire of rock broke the flat plane of the desert. It stretched towards the moon like an uplifted finger, an arrogant taunt aimed at the heavens far above. From their vantage point, Ichigo couldn't make out any details; it was just a black hulk.

Was that where his sisters and father were? He started forward, eyes straining to see better, and only Grimmjow's hand on his shoulder pulled him back. "Look," Grimmjow murmured, pointing to a hair-thin crack in the ground. "Watch." He reached down and scooped up a handful of sand from the forest floor, then tossed it onto the crack.

Faster than Ichigo could blink, the crack opened up and swallowed the sand, then reverted to being an innocent line. He gaped at it. "What the hell?"

"Welcome to Hueco Mundo," Grimmjow drawled, though he kept his voice quiet. "From now on, we need to stay in the air." He pushed off of the ground and landed in a crouch a foot above the deceptively flat sand. "Come on, quickly now."

They had made it halfway across without incident, and Ichigo was just beginning to relax, when reiatsu surged all around them. Ichigo screeched to a halt, nearly running into Grimmjow, who had done the same. Both of them whirled around as laughter echoed through the desert.

As the sound died away, the air cracked, and Arietta materialized in front of them. Her smile spread slowly across her face, revealing her jagged rows of teeth, and she flexed her fingers. "Shinigami boy. Sexta." She peeled her lips back off of her teeth. "Right on time. We've been expecting you."


	14. Bloodstains

**Author's Note:**

It's been a very long month for me, and a fairly depressing one. The world feels darker now to me, and I'm sure some of you are feeling the same way. If you need someone to talk to, send me a PM, and I'll try to help. Stay safe out there!

The Crimson Guy, Kimikozumi, VitameatavegaminGirl, Black Bankai, Junichiblue, SoulMore, your reviews were one of the brightest bits of the past month. Thank you. It's because of you that this chapter exists right now.

* * *

 **Chapter 14: Bloodstains  
**

Grimmjow sauntered forward and propped his hands on his hips. "Oh yeah?" He smirked. "Waiting to get your asses kicked, you mean?"

Arietta's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You're the one who's going to pay," she spat. Fluttering her wings, she rose into the air and gestured behind her. "Drop your weapons, or we paint the desert in the humans' blood."

Ichigo peered in the direction that she had indicated, then gasped. His sisters, heads lolling to the side, were tied to the spire of rock in front of them; his father lay bound hand and foot at their feet. Kinderras stood over them, one sai lazily tracing patterns over Yuzu's neck. He bared his teeth. "Let them go." The fluid bubble of his hollow's growl echoed through his voice.

"Or what?" Arietta's voice rang with scorn. "We hold all the power here, shinigami. Your little family won't wake up for hours, and you can't get to them before Kinderras slits their pretty little throats." Her eyes narrowed. "Drop. Your. Weapons." Her tone brooked no disagreement.

Ichigo glanced at Grimmjow, who sneered. "You kill them, and you know you aren't getting out of here alive," he drawled. "Do everyone a favor and go crawl back wherever you came from."

Arietta's wings flared, lightning sparking along their edges. "You think I care about getting out of here alive?" A faint sheen of madness crept into her violet eyes. "You think that matters now, so long as you're spilling your guts into the sand by the end of this?" She threw her hand up above her head, summoning cero fire into a coruscating halo around it. The stench of scorched fabric drifted to Ichigo's nose as the tattered ribbon clenched in her fist began to char. "You really think any of that matters?" she screeched.

Grimmjow tensed. "What the fuck are you talking about?" He glanced at the cero, then at Ichigo's unconscious family. Even if they got past Arietta, there was no way to reach them in time to save them from Kinderras. "Fuck, bitch, be smart for once."

A crazed laugh bubbled from her throat. "Oh, I'm being smart," she giggled, cero flaring hotter. "But…" She frowned. "You don't even remember, do you?" She laughed again. "Oh, what a fucking twist of fate! You don't even remember!"

"Remember what?" Grimmjow snarled, cero fire of his own starting to swirl in his palms.

"Ichigo…" The whisper came from behind him. As Grimmjow continued to banter with Arietta, Ichigo glanced over his shoulder at Orihime. She clasped her hands in front of her chest, as though terrified, but her wide brown eyes held a hefty dose of determination. There was fear there, yes, but the resolve was stronger.

Ichigo tipped his head towards her, and she nodded once, eyes flickering down at the ground. He frowned. "What?" She glanced down again, then up at him, then down one more time. He followed her gaze.

 _Oh, the girl is clever!_ his hollow crowed. _Look!_ It forced Ichigo's gaze to lock onto three specks speeding towards his family.

A slow grin spread over Ichigo's face. He locked eyes with Orihime, who blinked slowly. One. Two. Three. "Now!"

Everything happened at once. Arietta, infuriated past reasoning, hurled her cero at Grimmjow, who dove aside and returned fire with one of his own. A golden shield sprang into being around Ichigo's family, hurling Kinderras backwards as he belatedly stabbed down at Yuzu's unprotected throat. He howled in pain and anger.

As the serpentine espada hurled himself towards the growing fray, Ichigo yanked Zangetsu off his back and took a wide-legged stance. "Go," he urged Orihime, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "Get behind your shield, now!"

She nodded once more, then darted away at an angle. Kinderras jerked to the side to follow, but Ichigo sprang forward, a feral grin on his lips. "I don't think so."

Kinderras hissed at him, fangs hinging down from the roof of his mouth. "Get fucked, shinigami!" He yanked his other sai out of his sash and pressed them together. "Coil and strike, Vibora!"

A few yards away, Grimmjow laughed wildly. "Oh, we're playing like that, are we?" He pressed his fingertips to Pantera's blade and dragged them downwards. "Grind, Pantera!"

* * *

As power flooded through him, Grimmjow screamed in exultation. Bones cracked and shifted, armored plates emerging from his skin to envelop him in a skintight, flexible suit of bone; a tail ripped its way out of his spine and lashed wildly. Fire burned through his veins, energizing him even as it burned away the last vestiges of his human form. The pain was nothing compared to the energy that poured into him.

Slowly the dust settled. Grimmjow flexed his new claws and grinned at Arietta, fangs bared. "Want to give up now, bitch?" he drawled. Bouncing on his toes like a kickboxer, he gave her an insouciant smile. "I might even let you live if you run away now."

He wouldn't, of course, but hunts were so much more enjoyable when the prey led him on a good chase.

Arietta's violet eyes narrowed. "You wish!" she spat. Tapping her scimitar on her leg, she let her mouth stretch into a broad, humorless smile, showing off her shark-like rows of jagged teeth. "Dance, Mariposa."

Grimmjow propped his hand on his hip and watched as dark purple energy enveloped the female arrancar. It was tempting to attack while she was in the middle of transforming, but he'd learned his lesson about doing so when he tried to do the same thing to Ulquiorra. The storm of reiatsu generated by an arrancar in the midst of a resurrection transform did not take kindly to being interrupted. As he didn't fancy getting blown halfway across the battlefield, it was better to wait.

He didn't have to wait long. Arietta started to giggle, voice spiraling higher and higher in pitch, as the reiatsu cloud dissipated. As the last drops of energy evaporated, she ran her tongue over her darkened lips and quirked an eyebrow at Grimmjow. "Like what you see?"

Grimmjow sneered. "You look like a strong wind would blow you away. You sure that's it?" Her new form appeared positively waif-like. He could count her ribs underneath the sheer gown she wore, and the top of her head would barely come up to his collarbone. Her teeth were the same, jagged and sharky, but her eyes were now slit-pupiled like a cat. They took up far too much of her triangular, elfin face now, though one was partially shielded by her flowing, red-black locks that reached all the way to the ground. Her wings had segmented, and now resembled dragonfly wings that glinted like metal along the edges.

Arietta giggled. "Come find out." She darted higher in the air. "That is, if you think you're strong enough."

Grimmjow studied her for a brief moment. She appeared weaponless, though he wasn't about to trust that. Still, the only thing in her hands was that damn ribbon she kept playing with; her scimitar had vanished during her transformation.

He flexed his claws, a low purr rumbling from his chest. This was going to be fun. Ichigo's family was safe under Orihime's shield, and Ichigo – now in bankai form – looked to be having a good fight with Kinderras, so he could take his time here.

He sprang after Arietta, eyes blazing as he summoned cero power into his claws. She darted backwards, wings fluttering and eyes wide with fear, as the cero bloomed around his hand. "Sayonara, bitch," he snarled.

The first cero streaked by an inch above her head, as he'd planned; the second followed a millisecond later. He'd intended for it to cripple one of her wings and force her down, but somehow she managed to flip out of the way. He bared his fangs. "Scared?" he taunted. "Stop running away and fight like a man!"

She laughed in his face. "How about you fight like a girl? You might actually get somewhere that way!" On the last word, she flattened her wings to her back and dove at him, leading the way with the spiral horn protruding from her forehead. He sneered at her as he dodged to the side, and she turned a somersault in midair to face him again.

Then the fight began in earnest.

No matter how forcefully Grimmjow struck, Arietta simply wasn't there. His punches ended an inch in front of her face; his kicks swung harmlessly just past her body. Ceros flew past her without her doing more than twitching a wing. Every time he tried to get closer to her, she'd dart away, maintaining a constant distance between them.

After about a minute of this, Grimmjow was thoroughly fed up. As unlikely as it seemed, Arietta was just a hair faster than him. If he'd managed to hit her even once, she'd be out of the fight, but she clearly knew this, and was unwilling to close with him. He growled. "Fucking fight already!"

Arietta smiled sweetly. "What, you don't like feeling powerless?" Her fist clenched around the ribbon. "You don't like being unable to do anything to the person you hate?" A wealth of venom lay underneath her tone.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Grimmjow snarled back. "Just stop your fucking cowardly games and fight me like an arrancar already!" He really should have traded opponents with Ichigo – it looked like Kinderras, at least, was giving the teen a proper fight.

Arietta drifted towards the sandy ground, keeping a wary eye on Grimmjow. "Do you really not remember?" Her tone was almost conversational.

Grimmjow spat onto the sands. "Remember what? What the fuck are you talking about?" Why did she keep asking him if he remembered something?

Arietta blinked slowly, pupils expanding until her eyes resembled ebony voids. "No, you don't." She folded her wings and alighted onto the sand, careful to avoid the thin cracks in the ground. "You…" She sighed and shook her head. "I guess I shouldn't expect anything better from you."

Grimmjow, thoroughly out of patience, hurled a cero at her face. She swayed aside, and it crashed into the ground in a spray of sand. The scent of scorched ozone rose in the air as she stared fearlessly at him and lifted a hand. "Remember this?" The tattered velvet ribbon dangled from her fingers.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "It's a ribbon. What about it?"

A soft laugh escaped Arietta's throat, but there was no humor in it. "It's more than just a ribbon, you bastard. It's all that you left of Morganna after you tore her to pieces." Reiatsu flared around her. "Why? Why'd you have to kill her?" she screamed, voice cracking.

Grimmjow frowned. "What the fuck…" His eyes focused on the ribbon again. He did vaguely remember an arrancar wearing ribbons like that – she'd taken the form of an adolescent girl with pigtails. Too weak to be claimed as a fraccion, she'd been just another one of the nameless arrancar running around Las Noches, until she'd had the misfortune of crossing his path soon after his humiliating punishment at Tosen's hands.

The former sexta espada snorted. "She was dumb. What of it?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "Why the fuck do you care?"

The reek of scorched ozone grew more pronounced as Arietta snapped her wings open. "You… you…" she spluttered, reiatsu surging in a maelstrom around her. Her eyes narrowed. "Have you ever been in love?"

Grimmjow involuntarily glanced over at Ichigo. The teen was bleeding from a shallow gash on his bicep, but the injury didn't slow him down at all. A feral grin hovered about his lips as he clashed with Kinderras, whose serpentine body was littered with numerous slashes. None were even close to fatal, but it was clear that the arrancar was outmatched.

Arietta followed his gaze and began to laugh. "Oh, I don't believe this! A shinigami, sexta? Really?"

Grimmjow's teeth ground together at the sound of his former title. "Shut the fuck up," he warned, voice grating in his throat.

Arietta just laughed harder, though there was more than a hint of despair underneath the harsh laughter. "Oh, no, this is too much! Really? You think you love a damn shinigami?" She shook her head, sending her long, flowing hair flying.

Grimmjow bared his teeth at her, reiatsu rising. "I said, shup up!" Cero fire gathered in his palm. "Love?" He snorted. "Arrancar can't love. Only stupid bitches like you think differently." He was willing to admit to attraction and lust, even a certain level of respect. But love? Love was a weak, mortal emotion. Love hadn't done anything to protect his mate and cubs, and it sure as hell hadn't done anything for him since then.

Arietta tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Oh yeah? So how'd you feel if Kinderras ripped his heart out right now?"

The thought shot an unexpected pang through Grimmjow's heart. His reiatsu surged to a fever pitch as he glared at the slender arrancar in front of him. "Not gonna happen," he scoffed. "Ichigo's way too strong for that moron."

"But you wouldn't like it, would you?" Arietta shot back. As Grimmjow opened his mouth to reply, she spat on the sand. As the ground ripped open to look for prey, she snarled, "Don't try to deny it. The expression on your face says it all."

Grimmjow hissed low in his throat. "Go fuck yourself." Why was he bothering to talk to her at all, anyway? She was just a stupid arrancar; she didn't know anything. It would be better if he stopped playing around and simply killed her where she stood.

Her next words forestalled any attempt to attack, though. "It would rip your heart out, and you know it. Make you feel like someone had run you through." There was no question in her words.

"Yeah?" Grimmjow replied skeptically, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "How do you know?" He wasn't about to admit that the feelings she described had hit all-too-close to the mark, but he couldn't just let it go, either. How did she know so much?

Arietta laughed bitterly. "Because that's how I felt, you idiot, when you sliced Morganna in half for the crime of being in your way!" She glared at him. "She wasn't doing anything to you, and you fucking murdered her!" Her wings fluttered as though a high wind buffeted them. "You tore her to pieces and laughed about it, then left her there like so much trash." She pushed her hair out of her eyes. "You really are a monster, you know?" Her tongue flickered over her lips as her gaze darted around the sand. The energy swirling around her was making the air scream with its intensity, giving her a violet halo. "You deserve this."

As the last words fell from her lips, she snapped her wings up to point directly at Ichigo. A massive lightning bolt shot out of them and streaked towards the shinigami's unprotected back, blazing with heat. Grimmjow yelled a warning, but the booming of thunder drowned him out. Heart in his mouth, he watched helplessly as the bolt slammed into Ichigo's spine, right between his shoulder blades. The substitute soul reaper convulsed and started to tumble to the ground.

Grimmjow screamed. As the shockwaves from his voice hurled Arietta backwards, he leapt for Ichigo's limp form, but he could already tell that he wasn't going to make it in time. The fur in his spine rose in atavistic reaction to the shinigami's imminent impact with the hungry ground, which was already gaping open as it prepared to receive its prey.

Then, moments before Ichigo crashed into the black maw, a golden glow streaked over the sands. Ichigo's body landed on the magical shield with a sickening crunch, but Grimmjow breathed a sigh of relief. He might be broken, but he wasn't dead, and that was the important thing.

Arietta, who had regained her footing, screamed in fury. "Fine!" She spun and pointed her wings at Orihime and Ichigo's unconscious family, who were now unprotected. The young healer stepped forward, arms spread in a futile attempt to protect those behind her, as Arietta bared her teeth. "Take this!"

A hand through her gut stopped the lightning before it could begin to form. Grimmjow smiled viciously. "Don't you fucking dare, bitch," he snarled, throwing her down towards the sand. "Don't you fucking think about it." He spun and caught Kinderras's strike on his forearm. Baring his teeth at the serpentine espada, he grated, "Same goes for you. Hands off the kids!" As Kinderras swung again, Grimmjow planted a foot in his gut and shoved him backwards.

Below them, Ichigo pulled himself to his feet and shot back up into the air. Glancing at Grimmjow, he asked, "You good?"

Grimmjow grinned fiercely. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Kinderras. "You take care of him. This bitch is all mine." No one tried to hurt his pack and got away with it.

As Grimmjow dove towards Arietta, she hauled herself upright and spat blood onto the sand. "Fuck you. You don't know what it's like to lose someone you love!" Glittering amber oozed out of her fingertips, and she flicked her bright red tongue over her lips. "This is for Morganna!" Eyes shining with insane fervor, she threw herself towards him.

With a snort for her impetuousness, Grimmjow planted his feet and waited, teeth bared. "Come on, bitch, what are you going to do?" he taunted. His tail lashed behind him as he bounced on his toes, waiting for her to get closer.

Arietta let loose a scream of pure fury. "Go to hell!" She slashed at him with her fingers crooked into claws, then snapped her wings out and flipped backwards, kicking him with both feet. He blocked the first blows, but the kicks caught him by surprise, sending him tumbling backwards.

Before he could regain his balance, she was on him, raking with her fingernails as she screamed incoherently. Her wings buzzed as she clawed at him like a rabid wolf, leaving bloody scratches across his chest. Then, as he lifted a hand to shove her away, she reared back and drove her head downwards, stabbing towards his heart with her horn.

Grimmjow grunted as he brought a forearm up to protect himself. Hooking the horn on the spikes protruding from his elbow, he twisted upwards. A sickening crack echoed through the air, but Arietta didn't seem to notice. With another howl of hatred, she jerked her broken horn out of his grasp and slashed it across his face. Her hands scrabbled for purchase on his neck.

She appeared to have abandoned all attempts to guard herself, so Grimmjow launched a vicious hook punch into her gut. She grunted, but didn't let go, so he hit her again and again, raking his spikes over her ribs. He could feel her blood pouring over his abdomen as she clutched at his throat; her dark crimson hair spread about them like a cloud.

Finally, Grimmjow snarled in annoyance and grabbed one of her wings, slashing it in two. Arietta yelped with pain and jerked backwards, then bared her teeth at him. "Go… to… hell…" she panted, eyes blown wide with fear and pain.

Grimmjow laughed. "You first." He drove a fist into her face, and her expression softened.

"I'll see you there." A strange peace filled her eyes as she took a deep breath, then exhaled a glittering cloud of white powder. Her wings fluttered, and she grabbed onto his armor with both hands as sparks raced over them. He swore under his breath, tasting the curious sweetness of the white powder, and tried to shove her away, but it was too late. Even as his punch broke her nose, lightning crashed through her hands, sending thousands of volts directly into his chest.

For one brief moment, his entire body seized up, sending him tumbling towards the ground. Arietta fell with him, fingers clenched in a death grip though her reiatsu was quickly fading. Ichigo's yell of alarm came from far away, as though they were underwater.

Grimmjow cursed. There was no way he was going to die like this! As the ground rushed up to meet them, he forced sluggish muscles to spin them in the air, placing Arietta beneath him. Then he braced for impact.

They landed with a gruesome crunch, inches away from where the deadly salt flat began. Arietta's wings splayed out on the sand like a bug pinned to a corkboard; her blood flew everywhere. Her violet eyes were dull as they stared unseeing at the sky. "Morganna," she whispered, fingers twitching around the bloodstained, tattered ribbon in her hand. Then her head fell back and she lay still.

Grimmjow stared down at her motionless body. "Actually, I do know what it feels like to lose someone," he murmured, battle fury draining from his body. The exultation he usually felt after winning a battle was entirely absent; he merely felt cold and exhausted.

And, oddly, dizzy. Was it just his imagination, or was the moonlight dimming?

He shook his head roughly, forcing the sensation away. In the distance, he spotted Ichigo drive Zangetsu through Kinderras's throat, nearly beheading the serpentine arrancar before letting his body fall to the sands. The ground opened up to swallow him whole, and Grimmjow winced. No matter how much he hated someone, that was an awful way to die.

He glanced down at Arietta. _Then again, is there ever a pretty way to die?_ It all ended up the same – a broken corpse and bloodstained sands, and an aching void left in those left behind.

Grimmjow's hand drifted up to press against his hollow hole. He could practically taste the scent of his mate on the wind, tantalizingly elusive – it was as if she was just over the horizon. His jaw tightened. The scents of his cubs were there too, almost too faint to make out… or was he just imagining things?

Ichigo landed a few feet away and leaned on Zangetsu's blade, breathing heavily. Grimmjow gratefully inhaled his scent as he stepped closer to the teen, tail lashing. Blood, sweat, and the acrid scent of power, all underlaid with Ichigo's unique, spicy scent, drove away his ghosts. "You okay?" he asked gruffly, studying the blood splashes on Ichigo's exposed skin.

The substitute shinigami shrugged stiffly. "More bruises than I can count, and a few scrapes, but that's normal." He nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. You?"

Grimmjow eyed him sharply for a long moment, taking in the torn gi and blood oozing from a gash on his bicep, then barked a laugh. "Just great." Apart from an ache in his hollow hole and the steadily increasing dizziness, that was. What the hell was going on with him? Since when did he care at all about the death of prey, much less feel sorry for it? And since when did a simple fight leave him so… He swore. "That bitch..." The words came out slurred. "Did it ag…"

As the last word tumbled away from his unresponsive lips, darkness snuck up and claimed him for its own.

* * *

Grimmjow woke to a dissipating golden glow and the worried visage of Ichigo leaning over him. After a moment, he snorted. "Didn't we do this already?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes and punched him in the shoulder. "Well, if you would stop getting poisoned…" he drawled. Then his expression sobered. "How are you feeling?"

Grimmjow stretched experimentally. "Pretty good, all things considering." His lips twitched into a smile. "Good enough to kick your ass, at least." Though every muscle ached dully, he could feel no major injuries, and his reiatsu stores felt nearly full. It was a major contrast to how he'd felt after Arietta's last batch of poison.

"You wish," Ichigo snorted, punching him again. "Idiot." His lips quirked involuntarily. "I should have left you in Hueco Mundo," he teased.

Grimmjow bared his teeth. "Why didn't you?" he challenged.

Ichigo waved a hand. "Oh, Orihime wouldn't let me." When Grimmjow glared at him, he grinned and relented. "Actually, once you went down, she came running, but apparently that poison of Arietta's is pretty damn nasty. She poured a lot of power into you, but you wouldn't wake up, so we called Urahara and got him to make a portal, then got my dad to carry you through it." He snorted. "He wasn't exactly pleased, but he couldn't exactly say no, either, not when the girls were looking at him like that."

Grimmjow cocked an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Apparently, they were awake for part of the fight – Orihime was healing them even as she shielded them. They think you're quite the hero, or at least Yuzu does." Ichigo lifted an eyebrow. "Karin, on the other hand… well, you met her, you know what she's like."

Grimmjow nodded, trying not to smile. He couldn't imagine the feisty teen calling anyone a hero; she was far too cynical for that.

His thoughts must have shown on his face, for Ichigo laughed. "Yep, that's her, alright! Anyway, after my dad was fully healed, he carried you and I carried Yuzu, while Orihime helped Karin." He paused, head tilted to one side. "She's actually got a decent amount of spiritual pressure of her own now, I wonder if she'll become a shinigami…" Shrugging, he let the idea go. "We got back to the shoten without a problem, and…" He shrugged again. "Well, here we are."

Grimmjow pulled himself upright and fixed the teen with a hard stare. "So, sounds like we won. What now?" Despite his attempt to sound carefree, a touch of worry wound its way into his tone. Would Ichigo want nothing more to do with him after this? After all, it had been Grimmjow's fault that his family had been kidnapped. _If I hadn't killed what's-her-face, Morganna, maybe none of this would have happened_ … He pushed the thought away. That was in the past, and – while he understood Arietta's hatred now – he wasn't going to let it ruin his day.

A faint blush spread across Ichigo's cheekbones as he smiled. "Well, that's up to you, I think." He shrugged one shoulder and spread his hands. "What do you want to do?"

Grimmjow eyed the substitute shinigami for a long moment, taking in his dark, nervous eyes and the adorable shy quirk to his lips. A slow smile spread across his lips. "Oh, I can think of a lot of things I want right now," he purred, running his tongue over his lips. "They all require you to be a bit closer, though…" He cocked his head to one side and patted the mattress next to him.

Ichigo's blush darkened in a hurry. "Um, ah…" he stammered, glancing around. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" he hissed, leaning closer to Grimmjow. "This is Urahara's shop, you know!" Despite his words, though, his reiatsu flared with excitement.

Grimmjow released a breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding. "If that's all you're worried about, I've got a solution," he murmured, reaching up and dragging Ichigo down to him. The teen went willingly, steadying himself with a hand on Grimmjow's chest as he straddled the espada. Grimmjow chuckled. "Just be quiet, alright?" He wrapped a hand around the back of Ichigo's neck and pulled him down into a heated kiss.

As their tongues tangled, Ichigo let out a soft groan and molded his body against Grimmjow's chest. Grimmjow growled under his breath. Ichigo tasted fucking delicious, and the reiatsu emanating from his body was positively intoxicating. A thousand different images flashed through Grimmjow's head as heat poured into his veins.

But then the teen pulled back slightly. Though he was breathing heavily and flushed a bright red, he still managed to sound relatively composed as he said, "We really, really shouldn't do this now…"

"Scared?" Grimmjow taunted breathlessly, running his hands up Ichigo's sides.

Ichigo squirmed, biting his lip as he inhaled sharply. "No… just…" He swore under his breath. "Just… cautious…"

Grimmjow dragged a finger down Ichigo's hip. "You sure?" he purred, running his tongue over his lips. "Totally, utterly sure?" He chuckled at the teen squirmed more, shifting his weight in a very distracting way in Grimmjow's lap.

Ichigo leaned in for a quick kiss, then pulled away before Grimmjow could deepen it. "Unfortunately, very sure," he murmured, pupils blown wide with lust. "But…" He held up a hand before Grimmjow could say anything. "If you can be patient for a little bit, we can get out of here, and…" As pink flooded his cheeks again, he let the sentence trail off.

Grimmjow smirked. "And…?"

He was rewarded with more blushing. "You know what I mean!" Ichigo spluttered. He glared halfheartedly at Grimmjow.

The espada laughed lowly. "You mean something like this?" Before Ichigo could dodge out of the way, he yanked the teen into another searing kiss.

When he finally let Ichigo go, the substitute shinigami coughed. "Yeah, something like that." He made an attempt to look serious. "But you have to be patient." The attempt was marred by the way he kept shifting on Grimmjow's lap, biting his lip to keep from moaning.

Grimmjow tipped his head to one side. "What'll you give me if I am?" he purred.

"I, ah…" Ichigo gasped as Grimmjow ran a finger down his chest. "What do you want?"

The espada smirked. _Good question_. There were plenty of things he wanted, most of them involving Ichigo naked and begging for release, but right now… He tangled his fingers in Ichigo's hair and tugged his head back, exposing his neck. "I want you," he growled, pressing his lips to the vulnerable flesh.

"Fuck…" Ichigo swore under his breath, arching into Grimmjow's touch.

Grimmjow chuckled. "How does that sound?" He bit gently on Ichigo's jugular, eliciting more strangled curses. "Does that answer your question?"

Ichigo's hands tightened around Grimmjow's shoulders. "Perfect," he growled, fingernails digging into the muscle under his hands.

Grimmjow hissed as the unexpected pain sent sparks straight to his groin. "Fuck, Ichigo," he snarled, sweeping his legs off the mattress and standing, bringing Ichigo with him. "You're mine," he bit out, teeth closing around the juncture of Ichigo's neck and shoulder.

Ichigo gasped. "So long as you realize that goes both ways," he challenged, a faint echo of his hollow in his voice.

Grimmjow laughed. "Perfect."

He wouldn't want it any other way.


	15. Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

Hey everyone! This is the last chapter of Pandora's Box, and I want to thank everyone who's come with me along this journey. Pandora's Box started as a quick gift-fic for IchiNaruSunshine, and soon evolved into the novel-length story that you all read. I never thought that would happen, or that so many of you would enjoy it, so thank you all! Major thanks to those who reviewed, followed, or favorited (Akrximay, Guest, Doubleblade Miriko, Junichiblue, and Soulmore, thank you for your reviews on the last chapter), but also major thanks to everyone who's been reading along silently. You are all awesome, and the reason I keep writing!

In other news, the M-rated oneshot I promised you all is up, under the name Pandora's Surprise. Check it out and let me know what you think!

And now, I hope you enjoy the last chapter of Pandora's Box.

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Epilogue**

The crooked sign above the shoten, visible only to those with a sufficient amount of spiritual pressure, read 'Otherworld Embassy.' It had been painstakingly hand-painted by Ururu, but the paint job had been blistered by a stray cero within a week of completion, so it now looked like it had acquired a strange case of boils. The tail of the 'y' was also missing, having been chopped off by a bored Zaraki attempting to cajole Ichigo into a fight. According to Rangiku, there was now a running bet in the Soul Society concerning how long the sign lasted; most odds put its lifespan as less than three months.

Grimmjow had burst out laughing the first time he saw it, but now he merely cocked an eyebrow as they passed under it. "Wonder what Hat and Clogs wants now?"

Ichigo snorted, secretly amused by the way the espada had adopted his nickname for Urahara. "No idea." He ran his fingers through his already-messy hair, tangling it further. "Hopefully it's not as annoying as the last job, though. If I never see a desert sand worm again, it'll be too soon." The damn things multiplied like hydra heads – every time he chopped them apart, the pieces morphed into two more worms. He and Grimmjow had eventually resorted to a combination of cero and getsuga tensho to quell the rapidly-growing horde, which had left them covered in noxious worm guts. It was not an experience Ichigo was eager to repeat.

A grimace twisted Grimmjow's lips. "Next time, we're bringing one of those things back with us so he can see how he likes them," he grumbled. "Fuck 'improving shinigami/hollow relations' and 'valuable service for the community,' anyway."

"You don't really mean that," Ichigo retorted, pushing open the door to the back storeroom. The small space had been cleared out, renovated, and retrofitted with a host of kido spells to serve as the focal point for the new embassy.

"Don't mean what?" Rukia stood just inside the doorway, hands propped on her hips. When her eyes fell on Grimmjow, she scowled. "Still here?" The hostility in her tone was unmistakable – she'd never quite forgiven Grimmjow for almost killing both her and Ichigo.

The espada grinned insouciantly and prowled forward until he stood nose-to-nose with Rukia. "You got a problem with that, sweetheart?" he drawled.

Rukia glared up at him fearlessly, reiatsu boiling around her. "First," she bit out, "I'm not your sweetheart. Second…" She placed a palm on his chest and shoved him backwards. "Get out of my face!"

Before Grimmjow could retort, no doubt escalating the conflict, Urahara hurried into the room. "Oh good, you're…" He cut himself off as he took in the tension swirling through the room, then sighed. "Children, children, don't squabble," he chided, snapping open his fan and fluttering it in front of his face. "I swear, you're as bad as Jinta and Ururu sometimes."

Grimmjow smirked. "Who are you calling a child?" he challenged, taking a step towards Urahara with eyes gleaming.

"You're in fine form today," Ichigo muttered, casting a halfhearted glare at Grimmjow's back. The espada was clearly spoiling for a fight. While he usually had no problem with that – a blush spread across his face as he recalled just what their last fight had turned into – now was not the time.

Or place. The majority of the shinigami world remained oblivious to their unconventional relationship, and Ichigo was determined to keep it that way. Urahara and Yoruichi knew, of course, and Ichigo suspected that both Juushiro and Shunsui had inklings as well, but no one else had guessed yet. To the bulk of the shinigami, Grimmjow was simply an ally who was frequently found sparring with Ichigo, which was how Ichigo liked it.

He cast a dubious glance at Rukia, who was now arguing vociferously with both Grimmjow and Urahara. She would probably take the news the worst, he thought, but there would be plenty of shinigami who objected to the liaison. Never mind that he was basically half hollow, while Grimmjow was part shinigami – the hole in Grimmjow's stomach was all they needed to convict him, in their minds.

Urahara's current project might go some distance towards lessening that prejudice, though. The Otherworld Embassy had been formed with the express intent to formalize relations between hollows and shinigami, as well as other magical races like the Quincy. Head Captain Yamamoto had even grudgingly given it his blessing, though he'd threatened to shut the whole thing down the first time word of a problem with it reached his ears.

Thus Urahara's need for Ichigo and Grimmjow. Yamamoto apparently expected the embassy to deal with everything from hollow predation to Quincy/shinigami territorial disputes, which was far beyond its current capabilities. Urahara could smooth over many problems, but he couldn't be everywhere at once, and Yoruichi wasn't exactly the diplomatic type. Shunsui and Juushiro were conspiring to conceal the most problematic reports, but they couldn't do that forever. So when situations arose – like, say, a hollow clan being driven out of their territory by a sudden infestation of sand worms, forcing them to hunt for prey in the living world – Urahara sent Ichigo and Grimmjow to deal with it.

Thus far, Ichigo had very few complaints. The incidents gave him a chance to get his blood flowing, and proved a welcome distraction from studying, but didn't interfere too much with his schoolwork. He was even passing calculus again, thanks to patient tutoring from Orihime. The troublemakers were generally strong enough to give him a proper workout, as well, while the bounties provided a decent amount of pocket money. All in all, it was a pretty enjoyable job.

He stole a glance at Grimmjow's butt and blushed. And, well, the perks were excellent.

Grimmjow glanced over his shoulder and smirked. "Come on, Ichigo, join the discussion!" His grin widened. "Urahara was just explaining why it's better for all of us if we get along."

"Explaining?" Ichigo asked dubiously. From what he had heard, 'lecturing' would be a better verb. Though he happened to agree with Urahara's basic premise, it was not an argument he was eager to join.

The former captain sighed. "I really shouldn't need to go over this again," he pointed out smoothly. "Unless you want the shinigami and arrancar to return a perpetual state of war, the success of this embassy is critical, and cannot be accomplished without your full cooperation. Squabbling like children…" He tapped his closed fan on his palm. "Let's just say, it's counterproductive. Besides…" He tipped his head to one side, then shrugged. "Never mind."

Rukia scowled at him. "What?" she demanded, tapping her foot irritably.

Instead of answering, Urahara smiled urbanely. "You'll see soon enough," he promised. "Right now, let's adjourn to my lab; there are some things I want to show you."

As they all traipsed down the narrow stairwell, Grimmjow nudged Ichigo with his shoulder. "Still think this is a good idea?" he whispered, breath stirring the teen's messy hair.

Ichigo glanced over his shoulder at the espada, who stood just a bit too close for friendly conversation, and rolled his eyes. "Yes, obviously, or we wouldn't be here," he muttered, keenly aware of his lover's proximity.

Amusement flavored Grimmjow's tone as he purred, "Fine, but I can think of far better things to be doing." He ran a finger down the back of Ichigo's neck and snickered as the teen squirmed. "Can't you?"

"I…"

"Are you guys coming or not?" Rukia stood at the bottom of the stairs, hands propped on her hips.

Ichigo jumped and hastily pulled away from Grimmjow. "Yeah, we're coming, we're coming," he called down, trotting down the stairs two at a time. As Rukia turned away, he cast a semi-irritated glare over his shoulder at Grimmjow, who smirked back unrepentantly.

That smirk quickly turned to a frown as they reached the bottom of the stairs and a familiar voice met their ears. "What the hell is he doing here?" Grimmjow demanded, hand reaching for the sword on his hip.

Urahara smiled urbanely. "Ichigo, Grimmjow, I believe you already know Marrok. Rukia, may I introduce you to Marrok Serayan, formerly of Aizen's army?"

The hulking arrancar, who had been sitting at the workbench next to Yoruichi, rose to his feet. "It is a pleasure to meet you," he intoned, offering the diminutive shinigami a bow. The injuries caused by Arietta's poison and Kinderras's sai had healed into livid pink scars, giving him an almost monstrous air, but his amber eyes were as placid as ever.

Grimmjow scowled. "Again, what the hell is he doing here?" he enunciated, teeth bared.

Urahara lifted an eyebrow. "Marrok is our guest," he replied, a touch of reprimand in his tone. "Play nice." As Grimmjow opened his mouth, the former captain held up a hand. "As for your question, Marrok has agreed to be one of the first arrancar ambassadors." A smile flickered over his lips. "Nelliel offered, but we felt that her, ah, unique talents would be better suited elsewhere. I believe she and Yachiru have struck up a friendship; I believe Nelliel will serve as a prime example of the fact that not all arrancar are dangerous."

"And you think letting her run around with Yachiru will prove that?" Rukia demanded. "What happens when they blow up half of the Seireitei?"

Ichigo had to agree with her. In her childlike form, Nel was reasonably harmless, but Yachiru was a force of nature, and both, despite their looks, were deadly fighters. There were more than a few shinigami who were bound to react badly to the sight of an arrancar, even a young one – what would happen if they attacked? Rank and file shinigami had less than no chance against a lieutenant and the former tercera espada. _And if the Eleventh comes to the aid of their lieutenant_ … Not that Yachiru would need the help, but the fighters of the Eleventh were hardly likely to turn down an opportunity for mayhem. He could easily see it turning into a total shitshow.

He cleared his throat. "Ah, Hat and Clogs, are you sure that's a good idea?" Massive destruction wouldn't exactly endear the arrancar to the shinigami, after all.

Urahara fluttered his fan in front of his face. "Both Nel and Yachiru assure me that they'll be on their best behavior," he informed Ichigo, lips twitching. "Besides, business for the construction industry has been slow lately."

Ichigo groaned. "You're planning on Nel getting attacked, aren't you?" he accused. He had no idea why Urahara would want that to happen, but such a plan had the eccentric scientist's fingerprints all over it.

Urahara shrugged. "I can hardly predict or control what the hotheads among the shinigami do or do not do," he replied smoothly.

"Actually, yes, you can," Ichigo muttered, cradling his head in his hands. The whole embassy scheme had seemed mad enough at the beginning, when it was only the six of them rooting out problematic hollows before the Gotei 13 got wind of them. But now they had a childlike former espada running around the Seireitei, surely causing mayhem and panic, and the new ambassador was an arrancar who'd recently been trying to kill them. What would Urahara come up with next?

Urahara chose to ignore the subvocal comment. "Anyway, I believe that Marrok will be a great ambassador. His aid was already invaluable in cleaning up that little mess with the college students. You remember the one?"

Grimmjow snorted. "Yeah, that random boy he mauled on live TV. What about it?"

"That boy," Urahara corrected, "was not a random victim. He has just been charged with attempted sexual assault, and it's thanks to Marrok that he didn't succeed." His expression darkened. "His victim has no memory of the attack, as she was under the influence of a heavy dose of rohypnol at the time, but she's recovering as well as can be expected."

Ichigo swallowed hard, feeling an unusual sickness twisting in his gut. _That poor girl_ … "I hope she'll be okay," he murmured.

Yoruichi's mouth was pressed into a thin line and her eyes were frozen chips of ice. "She will be. Her attacker, on the other hand…" She folded her arms across her chest. "Let's just say he won't be doing that again." Pure steel turned her tone into something frightening enough to make both Ichigo and Grimmjow take a step backwards.

Grimmjow was the first to recover his poise. "So, how'd he…" He jerked a thumb at Marrok. "…help with that?"

Urahara tipped his hat down over his eyes, shading his expression. "Well, it turns out that our arrancar friend here has a rather interesting power when in resurrection form. His roar has the intriguing effect of inducing a state of waking nightmares in those without sufficient spiritual pressure to resist it, often leading to vivid hallucinations in those affected."

Yoruichi bared her teeth in a humorless grin. "And, it turns out that those nightmare hallucinations are easily shaped by kido. So we gave that asshole a taste of his own medicine, as it were."

When she paused, Urahara took up the thread again. "It's truly a fascinating effect; I believe it taps into some primal part of the subconscious, which makes it very powerful. We need more data to determine its full effectiveness, but I suspect that it would be capable of incapacitating up to lieutenant-level shinigami." Marrok shifted uncomfortably at that, and Urahara smiled. "Not that we're planning to use it against them! But that would be good information to have."

"You'd better not be planning anything, Hat and Clogs," Ichigo warned, dropping onto a bench and leaning back against the crowded table behind him. He recognized that glint in Urahara's eyes – when the scientist had an intriguing puzzle in mind, all other concerns fell by the wayside.

Urahara pulled his hat lower over his eyes. "Of course not!" A faint smile crossed his lips. "You shouldn't worry so much, Ichigo."

The substitute shinigami rolled his eyes, and Yoruichi smirked. "Don't worry, I'll keep him in line," she promised, casting an unreadable glance at the former captain.

Urahara fluttered his fan in front of his face. "Such suspicion! What did I ever do to deserve that?" When Yoruichi opened her mouth to reply, he added hastily, "No, don't answer that." She laughed, and he smiled at her. "Anyway, I believe my current project will be taking up most of my time, thank you very much."

Rukia frowned as she dropped onto the bench next to Ichigo. "What project?"

"Why, this, of course!" Urahara gestured around the lab. "The Otherworld Embassy!" He folded his fan and strode over to the large screen hanging on the wall. "And, speaking of the embassy…" A tap of a button, and the screen began to flicker to life. "I have some good news."

"Renji!" Ichigo exclaimed.

The redheaded soul reaper waved. "Hey, Ichigo. Hi Rukia." He glanced behind him. "Come on, guys, the connection is live." As more lieutenants stepped into the screen's field of view, Renji grinned. "We're here like you requested, Urahara." He glanced around. "Or, most of us, anyway. The captains have a meeting, Yachiru is terrorizing the Twelfth, and Nanao is on some errand for Shunsui, but everyone else is here."

A smile spread across Ichigo's face as he stared at the collection of soul reapers. Rangiku, eyes lidded, leaned on Ikkaku as he argued with Yumichika, while Shuuhei and Kira watched with amusement. The sound quality wasn't high enough for Ichigo to make out all of what Yumichika was saying, but it appeared to be something about the proper use of glitter.

Renji rolled his eyes and jabbed Ikkaku in the side. "Hey, moron, shut up! You're on the screen now!"

Ikkaku snorted, punching Renji in the arm. "What?" He glanced up. "Oh, hey Ichigo. When are you coming back to the Soul Society? Zaraki-taicho still wants a rematch."

Ichigo shuddered. One battle with the battle-crazed captain was enough for him for one lifetime – sparring matches were one thing, but he was fairly sure that Zaraki didn't know the difference between a friendly spar and a death match.

His hollow snickered at him. _You could always let me play with him_ , it suggested. Then, when Ichigo started to blush, it laughed harder. _Not like that, though!_ Ichigo blushed harder.

Luckily for his peace of mind, Urahara intervened before he could come up with a response. "I'm afraid I need Ichigo in top notch condition," he explained, leaning on his cane. "And I'm sure the Eleventh would prefer their captain in one piece, as well."

Yumichika waved a dismissive hand. "Unohana-taicho is a pretty damn good healer, she'd have them back on their feet in no time." He smoothed down the feathers over his eye. "They wouldn't be out for more than a week or so."

The corners of Urahara's lips twitched. "Nevertheless, I don't think that'd be the most efficient use of resources," he replied in a bland tone.

Grimmjow glanced at Ichigo, then at the screen. Ichigo had told the espada stories about most of the shinigami, so he knew who Zaraki was, but he'd only seen the fierce captain during the fight in Hueco Mundo, when he'd been practically dead. Still, he grinned. "If your captain wants a fight, I'd be happy to give him one," he informed Ikkaku, baring his teeth.

The bald lieutenant peered at Grimmjow, then smiled. "I'll let him know."

Ichigo stifled a groan. Letting Zaraki and Grimmjow at each other sounded like a recipe for mayhem – the two would probably destroy half the Seireitei once they got going. He wasn't worried for Grimmjow, precisely; he trusted his lover to hold his own. But he didn't particularly want to see him torn to shreds, either.

 _Then again, King, don't you think it'd be hot to see the two of them go at it?_ his hollow murmured slyly. _You've never really gotten to watch him fight, but I've seen how you sneak glances at him during your sparring matches_ …

Ichigo felt heat rising to his cheeks, and quickly did his best to stifle it. _Shut it!_ he snapped, glancing around the room. Thankfully, no one was paying much attention to him, though he did intercept a curious glance from Rukia.

But the petite shinigami had other things on her mind. "Can we get back on task?" she demanded, propping her hands on her hips.

Renji nodded, casting an admonishing glare at Ikkaku. "Yeah, sure." He looked back at the screen. "So, why'd you want us all here, anyway?"

Urahara smiled smoothly. "I have good news for all of you. As of yesterday, we have tentatively concluded negotiations for a treaty between Hueco Mundo and the Soul Society."

Grimmjow burst out laughing. "Treaty? Really? Who the hell were you treating with? We're not like you shinigami, with your government and your laws and your society – we're fucking loners!" He snorted. "I mean, Barragan tried to become king, but he never had more than a couple hundred hollows following him. Even Aizen didn't have everyone, though he sure did get most of us." The former sexta practically snarled the last sentence.

Ichigo noted the omission of Grimmjow's own ambitions to rule, and hid a smile. Maybe his lover had finally decided that those were futile. He couldn't imagine the espada being very good at ruling, anyway; he didn't have the necessary patience.

If Urahara, too, had noticed what Grimmjow didn't say, he didn't mention it. Instead, he leaned on his cane and nodded slowly. "All true, for the most part. However, Harribel assures me that she will do her best to contain her more unruly subjects."

"Harribel?" Grimmjow began to snicker, but then stopped abruptly. "She's… actually, she might be pretty good at that."

Urahara nodded again. "There will still be plenty of work for all of us to do," he warned, gesturing around the room. "Yamamoto-soutaicho will not be happy if this fledgling treaty falls apart and we return to a state of semi-permanent war due to our actions, or lack thereof." He sighed. "Now that we know many hollows are sapient, we cannot keep treating them all like mindless monsters. This treaty is a good step in the right direction."

"Uh…" Renji raised a hand. "But most of them are, well… mindless." He glanced apologetically at Grimmjow and Marrok. "Sorry, but it's true."

Marrok shrugged. "Many of the denizens of Hueco Mundo are no more than animals, it's true. But there are more intelligent ones than you might think."

A variety of expressions passed across the assembled soul reapers' faces. Neither Yoruichi or Urahara showed any sign of surprise, though most of the lieutenants bore various signs of shock. "Really?" Rangiku exclaimed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Marrok's bone-covered shoulders lifted in a half shrug. "Well, I don't know the numbers, and we mostly keep to ourselves or our packs, but Aizen had a pretty substantial army, and a lot of them are still alive. And he didn't collect everyone, just the ones nearest him."

When the arrancar paused, Urahara took up the thread. "From what Harribel has informed me, intelligent hollows operate on a form of a tribal system. Hueco Mundo is gigantic, easily as large as the living world; there are hundreds – if not thousands – of tribes out there. She's convinced the ones in her territory to cede the ultimate authority to her, though they'll still maintain their own hierarchies as well." He tapped his fingers on his cane. "Menos-class hollows are significantly more numerous than we have been led to believe." His face and tone were perfectly neutral as he made this pronouncement; it was impossible to tell what he thought of it.

Yumichika lifted an eyebrow. "So, what, these hollows are simply going to peacefully accept this Harribel as their leader." He sniffed delicately. "That sounds unlikely."

"Nevertheless, that is what Harribel assures me. And she is, if not the strongest, then one of the strongest arrancar remaining," Urahara replied calmly.

Grimmjow wrinkled his nose. "Who's stronger? Starrk, obviously, but he's still moping in his tower." He glanced at Ichigo. He'd explained the process of ranking within the espada to the substitute shinigami, and both of them knew that Harribel had more than earned her rank as tercera. Ulquiorra's strength and speed were no match for her water powers, even in his second resurrection state. If Barragan's resurrection hadn't possessed such nasty powers that no one wanted to challenge him, she probably would have been second in the espada ranks, as her spiritual pressure exceeded Barragan's.

"Other than him, I'm not sure," Urahara told him with a shrug. "But we don't know all the hollows out there, and I don't blame Harribel for being chary with information. It wasn't long ago that we were at war, after all."

All of the shinigami winced, and Ichigo bit his lip. The war had taken a toll on all of them, him included, and they were still recovering. It would probably be years before the Gotei 13 was back up to its full strength. And a number of the shinigami bore scars that would never fully heal.

He forced the dark thoughts away. There was no point in mourning what might have been; today was a day for celebrating their current accomplishments. It was…

The strident blare of an alarm startled him out of his thoughts. Grimmjow swore. "What the hell?" On the screen, the shinigami bolted upright, hands reaching for zanpakuto.

Urahara beamed. "Oh good, it works!"

"Hat and clogs…" Ichigo warned, reaching for the substitute shinigami badge on his belt.

Urahara smiled at him. "It's nothing to worry about – or, well, I suppose it is, but we have plenty of warning. The alarm simply means that a garganta to Hueco Mundo has opened, signaling a possible attack."

"So much for your alliance," Grimmjow muttered, rolling his shoulders backwards and flexing his hands. His tone was pessimistic, but a spark of battle-lust flared in his eyes.

Yoruichi snickered. "Hey, we never said you'd have less work," she pointed out, stretching her back. "Harribel can't control all the hollows; this is probably just a mundane incursion. But…" She pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "We still need to go check it out."

Urahara turned to face the screen. "We'll fill you in later," he promised, lips twitching at the expressions of disappointment on Renji, Yumichika, and Ikkaku's faces. As they all nodded, albeit reluctantly, he shut off the screen, then turned to face the group in his lab. "Alright, people, this is our first test. Yoruichi?"

The slender shinigami stepped forward. "Marrok, Grimmjow, I want you to take the lead on this. If they're intelligent, capture if possible. Otherwise, dispatch them as efficiently as you can." She glanced over at Rukia. "Your zanpakuto is ice-based, correct?" When the petite shinigami nodded, Yoruichi smiled. "Alright, if the arrancar disable their opponents, trap them in ice. Ichigo, act as backup."

"And what'll you be doing?" Grimmjow drawled, shifting his weight from foot to foot in anticipation of the upcoming violence.

Yoruichi favored him with a feline grin. "Watching to make sure things don't get out of hand," she purred.

Ichigo hid a smile at Grimmjow's outraged expression, which quickly morphed into reluctant acknowledgement. If this was an ordinary hollow attack, everything would go just as planned. But, if it wasn't, Yoruichi and Urahara would be ready to step in, like always. That tendency of theirs had annoyed him for a long time, but he was used to it now, and even acknowledged that it had some value.

Like in situations like this. Urahara's alarm hadn't specified anything about the intruders – they could be anywhere from newborn hollows up to vasto lordes. The former was more likely than the latter, but they didn't want to go in unprepared. _Unlike that time with the 'dog' hollow_ …

His hollow snickered. _You two nearly got your asses kicked by a puppy!_

Ichigo rolled his eyes. _That puppy was a freaking vasto lorde_ , he pointed out silently. By some freak of evolution, it had ended up looking almost identical to the little hollow animals that ran around the desert, and had somehow managed to conceal its spiritual pressure as well. Ichigo still wasn't sure if its form was a deliberate choice on its part, or if it had simply been unlucky, but the damn thing had nearly torn his head off when they surprised it.

Thankfully, it had proved amenable to talking after their initial misunderstanding was smoothed over – Urahara disapproved of killing potential allies.

"Hey, Ichigo, you coming or what?"

Ichigo glanced up at Grimmjow's words and blushed when he realized that everyone was waiting for him. Hastily pressing his soul reaper badge against his chest, he yanked his gi straight and gave them a sheepish smile. "I'm ready. Let's go!"

As they streamed out of the shoten, Ichigo cast a glance backwards at the sign reading 'Otherworld Embassy.' Peeling paint, boils, and cero burns aside, it had a strange air of hope to it. He smiled. A world without war… what would that be like? His entire life as a shinigami had been spent in combat – what would it be like to finally have peace?

His hollow snorted rudely. _You'd be bored silly in days. Now stop being an idiot and hurry up, or they'll leave you behind_.

Ichigo grimaced. His hollow was probably right; he'd be bored without any outlet for his energy. But true peace was still a tantalizing prospect – he could always spar, after all. And there would always be monsters to fight.

But the treaty was a major step towards a more peaceful world, and he wasn't about to complain. After all – he stole a glance at Grimmjow's ass and grinned – peace meant more time for fun.

And he had plenty of plans for how to enjoy it.


End file.
